Ulterior Motives
by Yanagi-wa
Summary: Willow decides that Xander needs a male friend so she works some magic. Willowmagicdisaster. Xander winds up as Spikes thrall instead. Spike claims ulterior motives. See what they are. In process of rewriting to eliminate inconsistencies.
1. Chapter 1

Those of you who have read this more than once, know about the inconsistencies. To those of you who haven't, there are some. Most of them are double 'first times' or backtracking.

I'm in the process, very slow to be sure, of rewriting, where I can. If I can't fix it, I can't. I'm not going to do a massive rewrite, just clean up where I can.

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Betaed by Skippyscatt, kitty_poker1, and Aayesha_r

Warnings: none that I can think of. If you feel a need, let me know.

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"Dammit. Red, are you sure you know what you're doing? Wouldn't do to turn him into a shrimp or summat."

Willow turned to Spike and nodded eagerly. "It's just a simple spell. It's called 'enthralled', and all it'll do is make him like you. I'm in the process of translating it now. As soon as I find the right text. I mean, I know which spell I want... but... Please?"

She turned her puppy dog eyes on him, and Spike sighed. Of all the Slayerettes, he liked her the best. He hated Anya and didn't care for Riley much, never mind that he was shaggin' the Slayer. Rupert was acceptable as one, English, and two, a fair fighter in his own right. But the Xander-pup was annoying. He never shut up, stood still, or did anything other than trip over his own big feet. Spike couldn't say he disliked the boy, even though the wanker seemed to be on the 'stake Spike' team; he preferred not to notice him at all. But Red liked him, so there had to be something in him.

Spike decided to watch the boy more closely tonight to try to see what Red saw. Then he'd make a decision about that 'friendship' spell.

The evening proved to be eye opening and somewhat dismaying. It went something like:

Xander: "Hi. Hi. Hi. Um, what ya doin'?"

Giles: (tired look) "Not now, Xander, I'm busy."

Xander: (sad face) "Okay, sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to be a pest."

.

Xander: "Hey, Riley what cha' doin'? Can I help?"

Riley: "If you'd looked, you'd see I'm cleaning a sword, and no, you can't help. You'll only cut yourself."

Xander: (crestfallen again) "Well I wouldn't have cut myself in the first place if you hadn't yelled at me."

.

Xander: "Tara, can I help you?"

Tara: "N-n-n-n-o-o. I-I-I'm O-o-o-k."

Xander: "Well, if you need me I'm right over here."

Tara: (nods head)

.

Buffy: "No jelly? Where's Xander?"

Xander: "Right here. Here I am. Just hangin' out. Yup, that's me, just hanging around boy."

Buffy (disgusted look): "Xander, you're babbling again. Go get some donuts."

Xander (crushed look): "Okay, yeah, that's me, donut gettin' man. On my way."

.

Willow: "Xander, do you need any money?"

Xander: "Yeah, I could use a few bucks. Had to pay rent."

Willow: "Ooh, Xander. They raised it again, didn't they?"

Xander: "Yeah. They want four hundred dollars a month now."

Willow: "Oh, Xander."

.

Spike snarled. Xander's parents made him pay rent for that shithole basement apartment. Rent he could see, but four hundred bucks a month? It wasn't worth a third that. Especially with them yelling overhead at all hours of the day and night. He hadn't spent nearly a month there without hearing some interesting things.

Spike followed Xander on his donut run and got an eyeful. The trip to Dunkin' Donuts was fairly short, even shorter if you drove. Xander didn't drive; he walked, counting money as he went.

He picked up every bottle and can he found, stuffing them in a trash bag he produced from one pocket, stopping at the recycling place, and heading for Dunkin' Donuts. He took a short cut down an alley and Spike winced.

Xander stayed in the shadows as much as he could; this was way more dangerous than anyone knew. There was a demon hangout between the donut shop and Giles' place, but if he got going early enough there were only some Darash demons there. They weren't really fighters, and if Xander didn't look at them, they ignored him.

"Crap." Xander muttered several more expletives under his breath. There was a demon he'd never seen before standing right in the middle of the alley. Xander feinted right then left. When the demon moved to intercept him, he danced away from the grasping hands and scurried for the mouth of the alley.

The demon tried to follow, but it's hard to run with a broken leg. Spike snarled in the demon's face and hurried after Xander. How the boy could have such good footwork and still stumble all over himself was beyond Spike, but he'd seen the same thing over and over. When he was alone he was completely different from when he was with the Scoobies. "Bloody stupid nickname."

So Spike followed Xander until he was sure that the boy was safe. Then he slipped into the sewers and went hunting; he'd check up on the boy again later.

Even though he couldn't feed off humans, he'd found that certain demon types were just as nourishing and tasty. And most of those were on the 'slay on sight' list. That made it twice as good. One, he got to feed. Two, he got his violence.

So why was he so out of sorts? He had everything he needed to be as happy as he could be, under the circumstances. But he still felt incomplete.

Being Spike, he stopped worrying about it and found dinner, with pocket money included.

.

Xander managed to get donuts and return to the Magic Box without further incident, if you didn't count staking a newborn, which he didn't.

He put the box of donuts on the table and started into the back to make coffee.

Giles stopped him with a soft, "Here. I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner." He pressed some money into Xander's hand. Xander wished he could refuse it, but he didn't have that option.

"Thanks, G-man. Appreciate it. You find your demon yet?"

Giles sighed and took off his glasses. "No. Seems that Buffy missed something in her description. I sent her out on patrol. Alone, as Spike seems to have made himself scarce. For once."

Xander shrugged and headed into the back again. Giles followed him.

"Yeah. And where's a vampire when you really need one?"

Giles gave him a funny look then he remembered the reference and sighed. "On the other side of town."

Xander grinned at Giles. It made him smile whenever Giles remembered one of his movie references. Not that it happened that often.

Giles smiled back at him and reminded him that they still had to find the demon, and they needed coffee.

Xander sighed, "Ok, be there in a few. Can't make the coffee brew any faster than it is. Save me a cruller."

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When Xander got to the big round table in the back of the shop, Willow was devouring the last cruller. In fact, there wasn't a donut left. Xander just shrugged. "That's okay. I'll go get some more."

Riley sneered at Xander, muttered something about "pigging down" some on the way back, and tossed him a trail bar.

Xander accepted the bar with a soft grumble, wolfed it down, and stuck his nose in a book.

He stayed with the research for most of the evening, then he stretched, groaned, and announced, "That's all for me. I got a new job, and I have to be there at 7am. That's... fuck... six hours away."

Riley looked up then returned to his book. "That's okay. I can go by myself. I'm a big boy now." But Xander's anxious look belied his words. Spike hopped off the counter he'd been sitting on for the last hour. No research for Spike, no sir. Not going there.

"I'll walk that way a bit. Maybe you'll bait something fun out of the brush. Come on."

Xander started to say something then just followed Spike out the door.

They walked in silence until they reached the turnoff into Xander's subdivision. Then Spike turned to Xander and asked if he wanted company the rest of the way. Xander stumbled over his own feet, squawked loudly, and started babbling.

"Ack! Um, no. Don't think so. That is... I'll be fine... not that far. And... um... my dad. Well, never mind, I'll be okay. Thanks. I'm fine. Thanks. Um... I'll just be going now. Bye."

Spike bit his lip to keep from laughing. He was feeling funny about the boy. He tried so hard, and no one seemed to notice him. Sort of like the way they were ignoring Spike. It was benign neglect of the cruelest sort, because it wasn't meant to be anything bad. They were just careless.

Spike's laugh turned into a snarl, and he slouched away to kill something, just because.

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Xander slipped into his basement room *apartment, my ass* and flopped down on the bed. He was a hundred dollars short of his rent and, son or not, his dad had made it plain that he better keep up on the rent or he was out. On the street. Homeless. Xander wondered if that was such a bad thing.

He woke up the next morning to a blow to his ribs that made him roll over swearing.

"Fuck, what the hell is it now?"

"Get up, you little shit. You'll be late. You got rent to pay. If you lose this... aawww, why the fuck do I bother? You're useless. Piece of shit. If you don't pay, you don't stay."

Xander rolled off the bed, keeping it between himself and his father. Contrary to popular belief, he never just lay down and took it. The drunken fights weren't all between his mother and father. He rarely ever drank, but both parties didn't have to be tanked for it to be a drunken brawl.

He grumbled his way into the shower and listened with one ear to his father's tirade against lazy, stupid, hot water wasting kids. He dressed and left, snatching up his Uncle Rory's car keys. He'd been driving it off and on since his junior year so no one said anything when he just appropriated it permanently. After all, he was paying for it.

His job turned out to be even more onerous than usual. Cleaning deep fat fryers and collecting the oil was just nasty, and what the hell did they do with it, anyway?

He realized that he'd said that aloud when the driver of the tank truck started telling him what it was used for.

"Remind me not to wear lipstick ever again. Or use hand lotion, for that matter. Eeeewww! In a great big way."

The driver laughed. "Well, kid. At least you aren't doing it the way I used to have to. Fifty-five gallon barrels, and I had to roll them up the ramp into a flat bed instead of pumping it out of the fryer tank. Had one bust open on me more than once. They docked my pay and everything. Demons, what can you do?"

Xander nearly fell out of the truck.

"Demons? What? Where? Demons?" Xander freaked out. "I don't… I mean... oh, shit."

"Look, kid. I don't know about you, but I know there's demons, and no one will tell me different. If you want to stick your head in the sand and play ostrich, fine by me. I'll sign the register at your funeral."

Xander wisely kept his mouth shut and kept working.

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Friday, he got paid and went to the Scooby meeting. Which was a whole new level of upsetting.

When he'd found out that he was working for a demon, he'd nearly freaked out completely then he'd realized that the guy paid well and didn't pull some of the stunts other employers did. So he shut up, did his job, and did his best to ignore the situation.

Giles gave Xander a hard time that night so he spent most of the night in the stacks, putting books away. He finally realized that Giles was trying to keep him from finding out what they were up to. So he eavesdropped shamelessly, and he didn't like what he was hearing.

Giles was sending Buffy to clean out a 'nest' of demons. Unfortunately, he recognized the address as that of his new boss. A harmless demon, more interested in money than blood or guts, or whatever Giles was afraid he was interested in. Not that it would do him any good to tell them that. They never listened to him at the best of times.

So Xander cradled his bruised ribs and thought then he just walked up to the table and told them he was tired, had to work early the next morning, and was going home.

Spike watched all this with considerable interest and started scheming. He was sick of Sunnyhell and the way Giles and the Scoobies treated him, and Buffy was definitely getting on his nerves. She was slay-oriented to the point of self-centeredness. He liked Willow and even found the whelp to be 'interesting'. Something was going on with that boy, and he intended to find out what. Spike admitted to being a right mixer at times, and this was one of them

He was going to get revenge on the Slayer and her little group of sycophants. But this revenge had to be special. He had to think carefully; the Hellmouth tended to botch even the best of his plans.

So he followed Xander around while plans fermented in his mind.

Xander noticed Spike following him and waited around a corner.

"Ha! Gotcha!"

Spike jumped a foot. "Dammit, Droopy. You're gonna get yourself killed doin' that."

Xander just glowered at Spike. "Why are you following me? You never follow me. You're so busy trying to get... never mind. Forget I said that. Anyway, again, why are you following me?"

Spike glowered back at Xander. "I wanna know where you're going. That's why... so, where ya goin', pet."

Xander just turned around and headed for home again. He wasn't going to let Spike get to him.

"In case you suffered a spell of selective deafness, I'm going home. I'm tired, and I'm going to bed."

Spike noticed, not for the first time, that away from Giles and the girls Xander didn't babble. Spike added that to the list of things he wondered about.

"I heard. But you never go home this early. So, what gives? 'Cause, I gotta say, if you're gonna mix it up with Daddy, I wanna watch. See?"

Xander just opened the door and went in. Spike started to follow him, but slammed into the invisible barrier in the doorway. He gave Xander a hurt look, then swore as Xander slammed the door in his face, announcing, "I looked up the de-invite spells. It's easy. Fuck off."

Xander sat on the bed for a few moments, then stood up and climbed the stairs. His father wanted the rent put in his hand every month. So here he went, money in hand, to pay up, again.

"You're short. Stupid. I told ya there was an increase."

"You told me fifty dollars. There's fifty more dollars there."

Xander snatched the money out of his father's hand and counted.

"Fifty more a week. Piss brain."

Xander stared at his father for a second. He didn't make that much money in a month, he said so.

"Well, ya got 48 hours to get out, then. Can't pay, can't stay... Of course, if you'd cooperate with Benjy…"

Xander just stuffed his money in his pocket, gave his father the one finger salute and went back downstairs, followed by a string of curses.

He picked up the phone and made the call to his boss. He had thought the name was one of those unpronounceable Slovakian things; now he knew it was just a bastardization of the demon's real name.

.

Willow tucked the book into her pack and worried at her lip. Giles was going to be pissed when he found out that she was in the locked case. Spike had picked the lock looking for something and never locked it again, so she was taking advantage of the oversight to find something to help Xander.

She had heard of Thrailan friendship spells. She was going to cast one for Xander. All she had to do was get the ingredients and set things up.

"Buffy! I need you to do something for me. I mean for Xander well, not for Xander in that he knows what I'm doing exactly, but you know that I love Xander. I don't want him to be lonely so he needs a friend not that we're not his friends, but he needs a friend with... with different equipment. I mean, well you know what I mean. You do, don't you?"

Buffy stared at Willow for a second while she translated Willow babble into regular English, or near enough.

"Okay, you want to cast a spell to get Xander a friend of the male persuasion. To... sort of... balance the equation. Not that Giles isn't his friend, but he's old. So... yeah, I'll help you. But we have to work it in between patrols. There's some kind of demon gathering. Giles is really worried about it. But I'm with the patrolling, and he's all researchy, so we're good. Just give me a heads up when you need me."

Buffy gathered weapons and backpack and headed home for the evening. Willow gathered up her stuff too. As they walked home, Buffy worried about Xander. She knew that something was wrong, but she couldn't figure out quite what. And Spike was acting weirder than usual, too.

Willow said goodbye at her door and watched Buffy as she trotted up the street, heading home by several short cuts guaranteed to scare up a fledge or demon.

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Xander knew he had to get out. His father was going to use this as an excuse to beat the hell out of him, and he was tired to the bone. He didn't know where he was going to go, but he was going. In the last six months, he'd had bruised ribs, a broken wrist, a sprained wrist, and a sprained ankle. And that was just from his dad. He couldn't take much more.

He sat down on the bed and thought. There was one place he knew he could go. And it wasn't Willow's, or Buffy's, or especially Giles'. There was a tunnel that ran the length of old Sunnydale that had a lot of decent places to hide out. He had a place there that he'd gone to for years. Just for a night or two, to heal up enough to fight off his father again. This time he was going there and staying, at least until he could save up enough to get a real place.

"Ya little fuck. Ya got two days to come up with rent. All in one chunk, in my hand, with an apology for being late. Hear me, pisswad?"

Xander gave the ceiling a burning look and yelled. "Yes, Daddy. I hear you, Daddy." 'Fuck you, Daddy', this last sotto voce and furious. Xander didn't lose his temper, ever, for any reason. But he was perilously close.

Spike lurked around for long enough to hear the exchange between Xander and his father, then went to his crypt and thought. Hard. When he finally made his decision, it was like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His superiors weren't going to like this, but they weren't really superior, and he didn't care much if they liked it or not. He'd suffered enough to pay for twenty members of the Order, never mind three.

Heading to Willie's, he grumbled to himself all the way about being taken advantage of and putting an end to it. He knew exactly why he had done some of the things he had. But some other things had been a mystery to him until just lately. Revenge was sweet, very sweet.

"Willie, gimme the phone."

Willie gave Spike a look and started whining. "Spike, every time I let you make a call, it costs me a fortune. I mean, call New York on your own dollar, or hundred, whatever. Know what I mean?"

Spike just vamped and snarled at Willie, the sound like canvas tearing. "Gimme the damned phone, ya wanker. I'll make it good." Spike held out his hand and snapped his fingers. Willie gave him the phone.

Spike dialed from memory and waited for someone to pick up. "Yeah... Spike."

The entity on the other end told him to wait, but he snarled "I want to talk to the Master of the Order, now. I'm done here."

The Master of the Order of Taraka came on the line and Spike didn't give him time to open his mouth; instead he gave him a quick run down of everything that had happened to him in the last year and demanded to be relieved of his duties.

"I'm starvin'. That wanker, Giles, keeps me on a short ration and pig's blood to boot. Ya ever taste that shite? An' I'm tired. Drusilla just about did me in, what with her constant maundering about talkin' stars and dollies and whatnot. Not that I didn't love her. But it was a damn thankless job, nevertheless. An' that's that. You got two weeks to send someone else to keep the fledges down to a manageable level. And Buffy, that's another story entirely, and none of your fuckin' business. Just send someone. Now."

The Master mumbled; Spike snarled. The Master snarked, and Spike blew up. "Look, I'm not askin', I'm tellin'. I fucked up with the Trio, yeah. But I paid, an' paid, an' paid. I'm all paid up... Because I said so. You send anyone after me, I'll send them back in a dustbuster. So..."

The master decided not to press the matter; he was astonished that Spike had stayed around as long as he had. Spike was a Master Vampire and a very powerful one. Very few entities could make him do something he was determined not to do. So he capitulated quickly, telling Spike that the debt incurred by getting his Order mates killed was paid in full. Spike snarled, "Nice to know. Thanks ever so. Now, I need access to my funds, a cell, and an apartment."

The Master gave Spike an address and told him to be there any time after they hung up because things were in the works as they spoke.

Spike grunted, tossed the phone to Willie, and headed for the demon bank of Sunnydale.

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Xander pulled a duffel from the back of his closet and carefully packed his comic books into it. He also packed several small boxes of collectable items and Willow's old lap top. She'd given it to him when she got a new one, in hopes that it might help his grades.

He hefted the duffel onto one shoulder and headed for Sammy's Storage. Sammy hated his father and would let him store his stuff for a minimum fee. Not that he needed much space, but what he did have, he didn't want his old man to get his hands on.

Sammy was more than cooperative; he was ecstatic. "I'll wait a week before I start rubbing it in, okay?" Xander just shrugged.

He got back home just before midnight, and the first thing he smelled was bleach.

"Oh, hell, he so did not…" Xander sniffed again then headed for the pile of clothing waiting on the floor until he had the change to pay for washing it. "Damn him, he did. Now what? Xan-man, you're in it now. Think, think. Okay."

Xander shook out the empty duffel and rummaged in the back of the closet. He piled things on the couch. Then he went through his dresser drawers, adding to the pile.

When he was done, he had two pairs of jeans that really fit, a black 'rock till you puke' t-shirt, courtesy of Oz, a dark red t-shirt, a denim button down shirt, and enough socks and shorts to last a week. Everything else was ruined. He hadn't even bothered to go through the soaked, stinking pile of clothing.

Xander eyed the clothing piled on the dryer, then shrugged and scavenged it.

He added a pair of stone-colored dockers, a pair of black jeans, and two more denim shirts, one black, one blue, to the pile on the couch.

Then he eyed his broken sneakers; he needed new shoes badly. His father had bought two new pairs of shoes just yesterday. He knew they wore the same size as the old goat had taken his boots last month. So Xander helped himself. The new loafers and cross trainers were added to the pile. He also discovered the boots he'd bought, still in their box on a shelf. They went onto the growing pile.

Xander scanned the musty basement room carefully. He wanted to make sure that he had everything. He didn't want to have to come back for so much as a stick of gum. That was when he realized that if his boots were on a shelf down here, some of the other things that had been taken from him over the years could be here, too. He'd never risked looking before.

After a short search, Xander found the roll of jewelry that his grandmother had left to him and his grandfather's coin collection. All in a snazzy steel briefcase. He added that to the pile as well.

He packed the duffel and made sure that everything was gathered up and made his second trip to Sammy's place.

.

He settled into the niche in the wall of the steam tunnel. It was about eight by eight, solid concrete, and cold. So he decided on one more trip back 'home'.

Spike saw him half way there and decided the bank could wait.

Xander ignored him.

Spike followed Xander. He was going to have the boy, somehow, some way.

Xander tried the key, the lock opened, but the door refused to do the same.

Spike walked up behind Xander. "Need help with that? Be glad to oblige, yeah?"

Xander stepped back a pace and slammed the flat of his foot into the door next to the lock. The door smacked into the wall and slammed back shut. Xander stood waiting for the door to make up its mind whether to be open or shut. When it settled, Xander pushed it open again and walked in.

Spike snarled; he couldn't follow, he was excluded again.

Xander turned, looked at Spike for a second. "Come in, Spike."

Spike blinked then entered. He looked around. It was as dank and depressing as he remembered.

"Ya move out? 'Bout time."

Xander just mumbled something and gathered up sheets, blankets, and sleeping bag.

"I'm leaving again. Make yourself at home… don't follow me."

Xander shoved by Spike and disappeared into the darkness of the back yard. Spike was so shocked that he stood gaping too long. By the time he got his wits about him and started to follow, Xander had disappeared.

"Well, fuck. Fucking hate Sunnyhell. Everything I plan in this place gets bolloxed up. Fuckin' Initiative. Fuckin' Slayer. Fuckin'... just fuckin' everything. I'll be glad to shake the dust of this unlivin' hell from my boots."

Spike lit a fag and sauntered off to meet the banker.

At the bank he was greeted with groveling and scraping. The demon who led him to the President's office bowed so low Spike thought he just might get rug burn on his nose.

"Master William, so glad to meet you. Right this way. The President is waiting for you."

Spike just grunted. He was tired and hungry. So hungry, in fact, that his stomach grumbled loudly.

"I'm sorry. I'll fetch you something nice, shall I?"

Spike settled into the chair he was offered and nodded regally. "Be nice. Got a bit side tracked and didn't eat."

The blood he was brought was fresh, warm, and sweet. He swallowed it in three gulps and handed the delicate cup back with a sigh.

"Excellent."

"Thank you, sir. The President will be here shortly. He's checking on arrangements for your new accommodations."

The President showed up just then and settled behind his desk. He placed several items on the polished surface and started to lecture Spike on his responsibilities, but Spike cut him off with a few well-turned phrases. He shut up and handed the items to Spike.

"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to offend. You're... you were turned very young."

Spike smirked. "Eighteen and a virgin. So, what 'ave I got?"

The man ticked the items off on his fingers. "You have a credit card and a check book. The red key is to the Mercedes, your cell is in the glove compartment, the blue key is to your apartment. Here are the address and entry code. The security system is top of the line. No windows. In fact, the living quarters are entirely underground. Very nice, though. Curtains on the walls give the illusion of windows. I think you'll like it."

"Thanks, mate. I'll be 'round again if I need anythin'. Oh, see about gettin' me a consistent blood supply, yeah?"

The man just nodded. "I've already seen to it. I didn't think a Master like you would lower himself to hunting like a common fledge. If you need anything, my number, my private one, is in the front of the check book."

Spike sauntered out the door, never noticing the man dabbing sweat off his upper lip with his pristine linen handkerchief.

The next four days went by in a blur for all the Scoobies.

Giles spent most of his time with his nose firmly in one book or another.

Buffy doubled up on her patrols; the fledges were thick and stupid. They seemed determined to throw themselves onto her stake.

Willow alternately helped Giles and worked on her translation of the friendship spell.

Xander lost his job because he missed the truck three days in a row. He couldn't seem to wake up without the sun shining into the room. He went to pick up his last check and found that the office was nearly empty. The only person there was the secretary.

"Here's your last check. There's a bonus and two weeks severance pay. The boss is decamping, and decided to let you have the money because he would have let you go. He just did it a day early. Don't know what's going on, don't want to know. See you around." She couldn't help but see Xander's upset.

"Look, kid. You're a good guy. Whatever you got going on, get over it. You're okay. You just need to get to work on time and all that. Once you were here, you did good. So... go out, get another job, and do it right. I know you can."

Xander shrugged. "I got a bad rep. My dad got me fired from two jobs. And I don't have an alarm, so I'm always late. I got blackballed from the construction jobs because my dad kept calling and making trouble with the bosses. Which, along with the being late, not such a good rep."

The lady nodded thoughtfully, then took a piece of paper and scribbled an address. "It's a cattle call. But if you go there, you're sure to get something. They pay the day workers cash on the barrel head. And if you don't screw up you'll kill that bad rep. Go give it a shot. What could you lose?"

Xander hoped that was what Giles called a rhetorical question. Because he sure wasn't going to answer it. She was a nice lady.

Xander didn't go to either of the Scooby meetings that Giles called. He didn't have the energy, or the inclination. The only two people who really noticed were Spike and, surprisingly, Riley.

.

Spike, meanwhile, was searching for Xander in his own way. In other words, he put his new minions to work looking for Xander, with simple instructions. "Don't eat him, don't even taste him. In fact, don't even think of tasting him. I find out you did, I'll pull your guts out and stuff 'em back in sideways. Just find the little wanker, yeah?"

They looked everywhere they could think of, but being low level minions, they didn't find him either.

Spike sat in his nice new digs and fumed. He wanted his revenge and he was going to get it. It all hinged on getting his hands on Xander. "Bloody hell, can't trust those wankers not t' muck up the job. Best get on with it an' do it meself."

Spike crushed his cigarette out in an ashtray on the table. It was still daylight, so he headed out to search the under-level himself.

He traveled the distance from one end of the main tunnel to the other, sniffing occasionally. He smelled Xander, but he couldn't pin him down. He decided that the friendship spell might not be such a bad idea; it might help him keep track of his new 'prey.'

.

Riley stopped in at the donut shop to see if he could catch Xander before he showed up at the Magic Box, but he just missed him. Instead he saw something that made him angry.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Where the dickens did you get such a mess of change? Looks like some kid busted his piggy bank."

The teller looked up with a sigh. "It's that Harris boy, _again_. He comes in here for donuts a lot, and half the time he's got a shit load of change. Those freeloading friends of his never pay him back, and he's no Cruxies (1) or whatever that king guy was."

Riley missed the reference completely so he ignored it.

"So, he comes in here and pays for two dozen donuts with small change. That's... weird."

The clerk looked disgusted. "No, honey, that's poverty. He has to pick up bottles and cans then cash them in. Only way a guy his age would have that kind of chump change. You wanna coffee or somethin'?"

Riley shook his head then poured on the Iowa farm boy charm. "Oh, no thank you, ma'am. I'll just take a juice and muffin."

Riley bit at his thumbnail and wondered if it was worth looking for Xander in any of his old haunts. He decided it wasn't and went back to the Magic Box to consult with Giles.

.

Xander finally went to a meeting the next night. It was Friday, and he didn't have to work so he decided to attend the weekly meeting. He wandered in with donuts he'd bought with change he'd scrounged in the usual way. Riley gave him a strange look and insisted on handing him $10 to "help out", for the first time ever.

Xander also noticed that Riley and Buffy seemed to be on the outs a bit. Buffy was in the training room beating the stuffing out of the heavy bag, literally.

He sighed and settled into a chair. "Okay, what's the what? And what kind of oogley-boogley are we researching this time?" Xander reached out and picked up a book written in an ancient symbolic demon language. He settled down to read, grumbling about the mustiness of the pages.

When Willow called him into the training room, he was glad to get away from the smell, shuffling of pages, and general grumpiness.

.

"Okay, Xander. You stand here, and Spike will stand there. It'll only take a sec." Willow scampered behind the large table which was covered with crucibles, mortars and attendant pestles, strange colored powders, and other magical paraphernalia.

"Um, Willow. You're sure? I mean, what… huh?... What? Wills, you promised no more mojo. You know it just doesn't seem to... well... aaawwww... . Wills, not the lip."

Xander gave up. When Willow pouted like that with the pouched out lip and the puppy eyes, he couldn't resist.

Spike shrugged. "So... we doin' this or what?"

So Willow worked her spell, the colored powders stank as they burned, and the whole thing was a failure. Or so they thought.

"Ohohoh... I forgot. Xander, you have to step inside the pentacle now. And Spike, you have to touch him. Go on… do it… please?"

So Xander stepped inside the pentacle and Spike took his hand. Spike didn't feel much, just a tingle, but Xander jumped out of the pentacle like he'd been goosed.

"Hey! So not liking the zap! Wills, this spell… what kind of spell is it? Like it'll help me to ask now. Stupid, stupid!"

Willow gave Xander a coy look. "It's a friendship spell. It'll just make Spike like you. You need a friend... of the male persuasion. Not that we're not friends... um... but we're girl friends. Not girlfriends, exactly, but friends who happen to be girls... and you need boy... I mean, friends who are guys... well, you know... and..."

Xander nodded and interrupted Willow in mid babble. "Okay... Wills, take a breath, I get it. Spike is now the Xan-man's new best friend. Thanks so much. Really likin' the thought of havin' the evil undead as a bosom buddy. NOT!" Xander took a deep breath so he wouldn't yell at Willow. She always meant well.

While they were arguing, Spike slipped around to the back of the table. He idly glanced at the notes Willow had made for her spell and blinked. This was the original spell, in Fornian. Damn! In fact, it was a Fornian thrall spell but it was mixed up with a Thrallian friendship spell.

Spike picked up the diagram of the pentacle and sighed. Fuck. He folded up the diagram and stuffed it into a pocket then he took Willow's notes, turned to a new page in the small spiral notebook, and made a list of every powder, herb, and fluid she'd used in the spell. Then he pocketed the book and pen.

He couldn't help but grin. Willow had just handed him the boy on a silver platter, with an apple in his mouth. All he had to do was set the hook and reel him in like a fish. He'd take his time. Do it right, and he'd have everything he wanted.

"With the smiling, and like a shark, I might add. What's up?"

Spike started right in. "I just don't get it. You're... different here. Ya' get all... stupid. An' when you're at work, you're all construction joe. You're... a chameleon. Changin' to suit the background. Or summat. What's your game?" Spike gave Xander a narrow-eyed look.

Xander resisted the first impulse he had, which was to punch Spike. Not really a good idea, punching a full Master Vampire was so not of the good. Instead he gritted his teeth, put on the goofy 'hail fellow well met' mask he usually wore and said he had no idea what Spike was talking about, insulted the Queen's English, and slammed out the back door.

Spike resisted the urge to follow him; from now on, he'd always know approximately where the boy was. There was other business at hand.

He hunted up Giles and asked for use of the copier. He knew better than to just use it. That was another insult to mark against their record. When Giles gave him permission after an assault of questions, Spike made copies of all Willow's notes and diagrams, gave them to Giles, and asked him to figure out exactly what she had done.

Giles glanced at the notes. "You haven't been casting spells out of Mim's." It was a statement, not a question.

Spike gave Giles an indignant look. "Wot, me? Got better sense than that, yeah? No, just wondered what was up with this spell. Take your time, but not too long. Don't expect the whelp would appreciate that." Spike sauntered casually away. Now that Giles had copies of the notes, he was off the hook.

(1) Croesus - Rich Greek king

For this story, the hierarchy for vampires is:

Newbie or newborn  
minion: with a few levels, depending on function and intelligence  
fledge  
childe

Master/Consort  
High Master

The hierarchy for humans is:

food  
pet  
Claimed /(fed a Master's blood and usually used for sex, but not necessarily exclusively)/  
Companion /(fed a Master's blood and used for sex in an exclusive relationship)/  
Consort:


	2. Chapter 2

Ulterior Motives 2

Betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1

Xander headed for his hidey-hole the minute he left the Magic Box. He was tired and that zap

had been painful. He had to be at the cattle call early in the morning, so he settled down to sleep,

hoping against hope that he'd wake up in time.

He almost didn't but he heard a noise in the tunnel and was awake enough that it woke him

completely. He groaned and got up.

He packed every thing away in his backpack and carried it to Sammy's, where he knew it would

be safe. If he left it in the nook, it was liable not to be there when he got back.

He walked the mile to the parking lot and stood in line until a man came up to him.

"What can you do?" Manny looked at Xander. "Oh, and what's your name?"

"Alexander Harris, and I can dry wall, I've got common carpentry skills and some finishing work. I'm fair with paint and varnish. I was learning to do floors and cabinetry."

"Quite a resume there. You any relation to Tony Harris?"

Xander flushed. "Yeah, he's my dad. But I don't live at home and I don't drink. Um?"

Manny smiled at Xander. "That's good. I'll put you down on the list. Wait here."

Xander leaned against the brick wall and hoped while Manny walked on down the line, asking

the same questions of the rest of the waiting men.

Manny went to the basement door. The pale figure there just waited.

"It's Tony, that's the problem. That asshole has ruined the boy's reputation. All gossip I think

but there you are. He's good?"

Spike shrugged. "I don't know. Probably. Just give him a chance and I'll owe you. Give him the

job on my say so, yeah? But make him keep it on his own. And don't tell him I spoke up for him.

Want him to think he got it on his own, see?"

Manny just nodded. It wasn't often that he was asked for a favor by a Master of the Line of

Aurelius. In fact, never as far back as he could remember had any of his people been asked for

anything by a vampire.

"Sure thing, Master Spike. I'll go put him on a bus. I'll see that he doesn't have trouble with

hazing, either. I don't like it to begin with."

Manny pointed out several men, Xander included. Then he consulted his clipboard.

Xander wound up on a bus headed for the outskirts of Sunnydale, wherethere was a complex of

quadriplexes going up. Xander sighed happily. If he could keep this job, it was going to last quite

a while. The complex was only about a quarter done, so there was going to be work for a long

time.

When the bus reached the site, the super just set everyone to unloading a flat bed truck. The pallets had been removed with a fork lift, but there were still bags of materials to be unloaded by hand.

Xander unloaded bag after bag of everything from concrete to he wasn't sure what. He was

beginning to get thirsty so he headed for the water cooler. Manny caught him just as he was

getting in line.

"You said you could dry wall? Well, the journeyman didn't show up. I'll take you to the site. It's

half way across the complex. Come on."

Xander followed Manny to his truck and wondered how long it would be before he lost this job

too. But Manny wasn't showing any signs of dissatisfaction. At least not with Xander.

"Stupid fucker got himself arrested for domestic abuse. Don't see what else I could do but give

him notice. My woman wouldn't put up with that for a minute. She'd cut off things. Lots of

things. But there you are. And here we are. Go inside and find Burk. He's job boss. He'll get you

set up."

Xander hopped out of the truck and headed inside to find Burk. He was going to have trouble

working this job. He didn't have the tools necessary, which was one thing that kept getting him

'let go'. He'd get tools, then his dad would hock them, then he'd get laid off. He sighed and let

his shoulders slump.

"Hey, you Harris? Come on."

Xander followed the man. Mr. Burk handed him a taper, a mud pan, and some corner tools; in

fact, all the tools Xander needed to do the job.

"I know you probably have your own tools but since you didn't know you were going to get this

chance you don't have them with you. So I'll lend you my second best set until you can bring

yours."

Xander took a deep breath and decided honesty was best. "I had tools, but my dad hocked them.

I don't have so much as a trowel. I'll get tools as soon as I can, if you keep me on the job. I'll

pay for the loan of these as soon as I get a payday. If that's all right."

Burk just shrugged. "Tough. You still live at home?"

Xander shook his head. "No, I moved out. I don't have a regular place yet. Again with the

waiting on a payday. But . . ."

Mr. Burk held up his hand. "Not my business, especially since you don't live at home. Start at

that end and do both side walls and the end. Don't do this end. I want to watch you while you work on it. Get a feel for what you can do. Okay . . . I'll be around if you need anything."

Xander started hanging the dry wall. It didn't take him long to get it all hung. Then he went in search of mud. He wondered why they called it mud instead of something more . . . elegant, or at least nice.

After getting a tray of mud, Xander started mudding in the dry wall, covering the cracks between

the sheets of plaster board with the mud, then taping them. He fell into a rhythm that lasted until

he was done.

"Mr. Burk, I'm done with my job. I'm going to get a drink before I start on the last wall. Okay?"

"Yeah. Stay hydrated. It's hotter than hell in here and we're shutting off the breeze as we get the

walls up. Get a drink then come back."

Xander managed to get to the cooler this time and dumped one cup of water over his head then

drank several more. He stood in the window opening for a moment, enjoying the breeze that

managed to find its way through.

Xander liked construction work. It was logical. Things made sense. Blueprints were static; they didn't suddenly change shapes or be something they were not. Dry wall was dry wall and a 2 x 4 was only that. They didn't go all squiggly on him. He hoped that he could keep this job.

If he could find a ride to work, he'd really be in good. Even if he didn't, he was feeling good

about this job. Without his father in the way he might actually keep it. If he could get his tools

back. He'd been really pissed about that. When he'd found out that Tony had hocked them he'd

nearly done something he'd regret. For his own sake.

Xander went back to find Mr. Burk running a finger down one of his seams. Xander hoped he

wasn't going to find fault with it. It was the best he could do, although he figured it probably

wasn't good enough.

"This is real good work. You need your own tools though. See about getting some, okay? I'll let

you use those until payday. I don't think I need to watch you work around the door. I'm heading up to the front of the building. See you later."

Xander finished the wall, then got another drink. He was so thirsty because he'd been sweating

like a horse. Drywall was heavier than you'd think and the size made it awkward, but he had

managed the job with a minimum of trouble.

He decided that he should go look for Mr. Burk; maybe there was something else he could do

before quitting time.

He heard them before he got to the front of the building. Mr. Burk was swearing and someone

else was talking softly. He hurried into the lobby of the still unfinished building to hear the last

of the man's conversation

"I don't care. If we don't get the crane, we're fucked. That retaining plate is cracked and it's not

going to hold much longer. . . . . . two hours. We don't have that long. . . . . . okay, just try." The

man snapped his phone shut with a muttered curse.

Xander had only heard this side of the conversation, so he wasn't sure what retaining plate they

were talking about, but he found out easily enough. All he had to do was look up. The lobby

ceiling was a modified geodesic dome with a large retaining plate at its apex. The plate was

cracked along one side.

Six beams met right at the top of the dome, but two of them were breaking away from the rest as

the plate they were attached to wascracked between them and the other four. Xander could see that

the fix was easy enough. All someone had to do was climb up the outside of the dome and fasten

the beams together somehow until a new plate could be gotten and put in place.

He obviously had a case of 'babble mouth' and said all that out loud, as the phone man turned to

him and barked, "If you're so smart, you do it."

So Xander just shrugged, walked to the wall and started climbing. It wasn't really all that hard;

all he had to do was remember not to look farther down than his feet. Which he only did once,

more than enough, thank you very much. But he managed to make it to the top of the dome and

get a look at the plate.

He yelled down and asked for a comealong and two bolts. Someone tossed up a cord by

weighting the end with a shot. The first try was a mess.His frantic grab for the shot nearly overbalanced him and he felt a nasty jab from something in his inner thigh. Xander caught it on the second try.

Using the cord, Xander pulled up the comealong, bolts and a wrench. He used the bolts to attach

the ends of the comealong to the main part of the plate and the two errant beams. Then he

slowly pulled the plate back together careful not to pull too hard or too quickly.

As he slowly worked the rachet of the comealong, Xander looked down at the pavement two

storeys below. From here he could see the mosaic design in its entirety. He checked that the bolts weren't making the retaining plate split more then climbed down.

When he got to the floor, Mr. Burk was waiting for him.

"Dammit. I didn't think you could do it. Great work."

Xander shrugged; this hadn't been as scary as facing off with a Fyarl demon. "That's okay. I'm just glad I could do it. Having that dome collapse would put the job off for. . . at least three days."

Mr. Burk looked at the other supervisor. "Jake Lonergan, Xander Harris."

Xander stuck out his hand. "Hi. Pleased to meet you."

"Same here. You don't know what you've done so I'll tell you. If that dome had collapsed, we'd

have had to shut down the whole job until the OSHA guys went over everything. Thirty or more

guys would have been laid off until we could get the site back up and running. At least two

weeks."

Xander eyed the man for a moment then looked back up at the dome. "Why? That dome is

freestanding. It doesn't affect the rest of the building, never mind the rest of the site."

"Well, hell. How'd you figure out that one? Even OSHA wouldn't believe it without going over

every damn thing twice."

Xander blinked slowly. He knew he was not the sharpest knife in the drawer but even he could see what was on the blueprints.

"It's right there on the blueprints." Xander held up a hand. "I know I shouldn't have been looking at them, but they were just right out there on the table so I snuck a peek on my break."

Mr. Lonergan just shook his head. "You shouldn't be so . . . self-effacing. If you could see that

from a quick look at the blueprints, what else did you see?"

Xander rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you didn't order enough 2 x 4's for the second floor

of that wing." Xander waved his hand in the general direction of the area he was talking about.

He sighed. He was starting to feel the results of adrenalin crash and the cut or whatever on his thigh was starting to really ache.

"Hey! You okay? What. . . you better sit down."

Xander sat gingerly. All he needed was for them to know he'd gotten hurt on the job. Lots of

companies would fire a guy for that.

"I'll be okay in a minute, just kinda washed out here. Adrenalin crash. I just need to sit for a minute."

Mr. Burk brought Xander a soda and handed it to him, telling him the caffeine would make him

feel better.

Mr. Lonergan just nodded. "I'm sorry. You must be exhausted. You go home now and get some

rest. We'll pay you for the rest of the day and maybe we can manage a bonus. Come back

tomorrow, and don't forget your tools."

Xander sighed. He'd have to find some way to get his tools back. Maybe he could borrow the

money from Giles. He knew his tools were still at the pawn shop; he'd seen them when he'd

gone in to check a couple of days ago.

Xander left the site, but he didn't get much rest. First he had to walk all the way back to

Sammy's to get his stuff, then he had to make up his 'room'. But he didn't get to rest even then.

After he was done setting up he remembered that tonight was a Scoobie meeting, one Spike had

made sure he knew about.

So he took all his things and put them back in his backpack, shouldered it and headed for The

Magic Box, grumbling all the way.

On the way there he ran into Spike, which made him wince.

"Spike."

"Well, let's not expire of joy." Spike smirked at Xander, who just wearily continued on his way.

"Cat got your tongue?" Spike wrinkled his nose.Xander had obviously not had time to shower

before he got there.

Xander stopped to eye Spike with irritation. "Look. I'm tired, I had to walk to the cattle call and

we had a thing there. And I walked back again. I didn't have time for a shower so I stink. Get

over it."

Spike, being Spike, asked the question that jumped into his mind. "But you have your uncle's car.

What's up with that?"

"It's my uncle's car. As long as I was taking care of it, gassing it and paying insurance on it I

could drive it when the old man didn't want it. But . . . I'd rather not get arrested for grand theft

auto, thankyouverymuch."

Spike grimaced. He hadn't thought of that. He was going to have to step up his schedule a little.

"Well, can't say as I blame you. American jails are not my favorite place, either."

"So . . . I walk. Get over it."

"Don't have to,pet. But enough of that. We better get in there before the librarian frowns at us. Wanna put that in my trunk?"

"No."

Spike snorted rudely. "You wanna explain why you got all your worldly goods in there?"

"No, guess not." Xander followed Spike to the DeSoto and chucked his pack in the trunk.

Xander bit his lip **--** one of the things he was going to have to do tonight was swallow his pride.

He followed Spike to the door, trying to decide how to go about getting the money he needed

without letting anyone know how bad it really was.

"Um . . . . Giles? Can I talk to you for a second?"

Giles managed to pull his nose out of the book long enough to blink at Xander. "Of course. Just a moment." Giles stuck his finger into the book and gazed at Xander rather vaguely.

"I need to borrow some money. Not a whole lot. But my dad hocked some of my tools and I

need to buy them back. It's only $300 and I can pay you back $150 this payday and the rest next

month. Please?"

Giles gave Xander a stern look. "Xander, if you allowed your father to pawn your tools, you

should go to him for the money to get them back. You really must learn a little more

responsibility. Why don't you go to the shopkeeper and make a deal with him?"

Xander gave Giles a funny look then just shrugged. Giles didn't hear him mutter 'because the

bastard wants to fuck me for them.'

Xander approached Buffy, but she was sincere when she told him she didn't have that kind of

money. She frowned and told him to ask Riley, then admitted that they weren't really talking to

each other anymore.

"I think he's going to leave for South America or something. I don't know what to do."

Xander gave her some advice that he didn't think she was going to take and went to find Riley.

Riley shrugged and admitted that he didn't have that kind of money and didn't think he'd be

around to collect, even if he had it.

Xander plopped down in a chair, exhausted, dirty and disgusted.

"Here, pet. Make you feel better, yeah?"

Spike handed Xander a soda and a donut. Xander gaped at him for a second, then accepted the things with a soft 'thanks'

Spike also noticed that no one else had even asked Xander if he'd eaten. "Bloody hell. Harris,

did you even have lunch today?"

Xander swallowed the last of the donut before answering. "No. I . . . missed the lunch wagon.

It's okay. I'll go by Lonnie's and get something after the meeting."

Buffy was in the back room punching the hell out of the heavy bag, Willow and Tara were

reading a book together and the Watcher, as usual had his nose stuck in a book. Spike sneered at

them all

The whelp was everything that Spike wasn't. He was loyal, brave, loving. In fact, Spike

acknowledged, he was a regular Boy Scout. Spike wanted all those virtues for himself, in the

person of Xander Harris. And now was the time to make his first move.

"Well, Xander, we better be going. You want some supper before we go to the pawn shop to get

your tools?"

"Um. . . Spike. I didn't get the money. No one has . . . well, except for Giles and he . . . never

mind. Just. . . shit!" Xander ran a hand through his hair. The chocolate strands stuck out in every

direction, stiff from sweat and dry wall dust.

Spike set the first nail. "That's okay. I got the dosh. And I don't mind loanin' ya some."

Xander eyed Spike. "Um . . . where did you get money? I mean . . .not that I think you did

something you shouldn't have but. . ."

Spike held up his hand. "I got money. Just couldn't get to it for a while. I'll explain some other

time. That pawn shop closes at 7 and doesn't open again till midnight, so we better get going."

Xander heaved himself out of the chair and slouched his way to the door.

"Bye, guys. See you . . . whenever."

Giles flapped his hand absently, and Willow just gave Xander a quick smile. Tara, however, gave

Spike a long, measured look that made him give a cocky smirk in return. Glinda was a good kid, and a lot more knowledgeable about magic than she let on. Spike filed that away for future reference

Just before they reached the DeSoto Xander stopped Spike.

"Okay, evil undead, what are you up to?"

Spike smirked at Xander and lit a cigarette. "Don't know wot yer talkin' about, pet. You need

the tools, I got the money. What's the problem?"

Xander gave Spike a sharp look. "I don't know. Just, _evil undead _here. I don't trust you. Where

did you get the money?

Spike turned his head so Xander wouldn't see the triumph in his eyes. "Angel. Don't want t' talk

about it. Just, I got it, you need it, yeah? And it is a loan. You pay me back all at once when you

get it." Xander started to say something but Spike forestalled him. "I got plenty. Ya won't be

puttin' me short. So, we're goin' now, yeah?"

Xander nibbled at his lower lip and Spike had to look away or he'd jump the boy right there and

then.

"Yeah, we're going now. I've got to have the tools." Xander headed for Spike's car with a grudging thanks.

Spike drove to the Double Meat Palace, but refused to stop the minute he smelled the

place. He wasn't having his boy eat anything that smelled like that.

"Hey! I'm hungry. If you don't want to stop there then take me to Lonnie's. Come on."

Spike knew where Lonnie's was so he turned around and drove there without complaint. He got

a carry out mug of blood for himself and told Xander to order whatever he wanted. Xander

immediately called him on this generosity, demanding to know what he wanted in return.

"You'll find out. Got an ulterior motive, I do. Don't doubt it for a mo'."

After placing his order, Xander settled back in his seat, content for the moment

Xander ate his burger and fries on the way to the pawn shop. Spike noticed the way he nearly

inhaled the food and realized that Xander was always hungry because he skipped meals. Spike

nearly snarled, the thought of his boy hungry made his stomach turn. He was now intimately

acquainted with that particular sensation and he didn't like it. For either of them.

They arrived at the shop just as Xander swallowed the last fry and sip of soda. Spike parked right

in front of the shop and kicked the door of the DeSoto open with a creak of protesting hinges.

Xander scrambled out of the passenger door and paused on the sidewalk.

"Maybe you should let me go in by myself."

Spike sneered at him. "Got vampire hearing, ya git. Heard that last. You think I'm gonna leave

ya alone with someone who wants ta touch my property?"

Xander started to say something but Spike forestalled him. "Not a word." Somehow Xander

couldn't bring himself to say anything. Spike smirked at him for a second. "Well, we goin' in or

what?"

Xander opened the door and slouched in.

The fat proprietor greeted Xander with a greasy smile. "Hey there, love bug. Come to give me

some sugar?"

Xander returned the smile with a look of contempt and disgust. "No. I came to get my tools."

"Tools'll cost ya."

"How much?"

"What ya got?"

Xander considered. He knew how much his father had gotten for the tools. He offered that with a

'don't mess with me' look.

Benjy smirked at Xander. "Not enough. I know how much they're worth."

Xander just started searching the shop for his stuff. He finally found it all, except for his

Sawzall. He turned to Benjy and asked about it. When Benjy told him he'd given it to his son,

Xander knew he was lying. Benjy's son wouldn't know one end of the tool from the other. He

had no use for a reciprocal saw and would probably cut off something if he tried to use it.

Xander eyed the pile of tools on the counter and then continued his search. He found a Super

Sawzall in the back. It wasn't in the best of shape, but it was a good tool, nonetheless. He added it to the pile.

Spike watched as Xander found his tools and piled them on the counter. He'd never realized that construction required so much stuff. Not that he'd ever really thought about it before. He didn't recognize most of the tools, but Xander named them all and caressed them with work roughened fingers.

When Xander added the last tool Spike thought he was done, but Xander wandered around a

little more. When he finally made his way to the instruments, Spike was surprised. He hadn't

known that Xander played anything.

Xander stopped at the wall rack and ran his fingers over the finger board of a round-backed

Ovation. His wistful look hurt Spike. He knew Xander placed some value on that particular

instrument. He decided the boy would have that guitar.

"You want that, you know the price. I got an offer for that particular guitar and the guy is willin'

to pay my price. Decide now or I'm sellin' it tomorrow." Benjy leered at Xander in a way that

made Spike snarl.

Xander grimaced. "Not a chance in hell. I wouldn't let you fuck me with someone else's dick.

Just tell me how much you want for the tools. And don't jerk me around."

Spike looked at Benjy over Xander's shoulder. He vamped and then stroked his cheek with the

backs of his fingers. Benjy's eyes widened. He understood what that meant and he wasn't

messing with a Master Vampire.

"Um . . . okay . . . well, I gave your dad . . . six hundred for the tools. So . . ."

"No. You gave him one fifty. I know because he bragged about it. Don't mess with me. I'll give

you . . . a hundred."

"Hey! I want to screw you not the other way around. One twenty five."

"Receiving stolen goods. A hundred."

Spike showed Benjy a bit of fang, Benjy bit his lip then decided he was giving up.

"Um . . . Okay . . . you got me. Take them. Where's my money?"

Xander turned to Spike slightly shame**-**faced. "Um . . . Spike? It's the best I can do. I'll pay you

back as soon as I get paid. Okay?"

Spike pulled a small roll of bills out of his duster, andXander wondered vaguely how many pockets it had.

He peeled off a hundred and ten dollars and handed them to Benjy.

"There. I'm takin' the git box too."

"The . . . what?"

Xander blinked. "Spike . . . I . . ." Xander trailed off.

Spike got in Xander's face. "Tell me what you want . . . and why." He used Master's Voice on

Xander.

"I want Jesse's guitar. It's all I have left of him. He took lessons and then taught me. The old man sold it before I ever got to play it." Xander gave Spike a startled and dismayed look. "What

the hell did you just do?"

Spike lit a cigarette and shrugged. "Used Master's Voice. Never mind, just go get the damn thing before I change me mind."

Xander went to get the guitar and find the case. When he got them, he returned to Spike.

He stood in front of Spike with a hanging head and slumped shoulders.

Spike watched him while he struggled with his pride and his need.

"Thanks. I . . . thanks."

Spike just shrugged. "Come on. I want out of here. Place stinks."

Benjy wiped sweat off his face and shivered. He hadn't realized that Xander was a Claimed One.

He was going to get Tony for this one.

Xander put the box of tools in the trunk next to his backpack, but he put the guitar case in the

back seat. As he settled back in the passenger seat Spike got a good whiff of him. Even sweaty

Xander smelled good. Like cinnamon and salt.

Xander caught Spike sniffing and snarled. "Don't even. I know you don't have to breathe. Hey,

vampire. So no smart remarks. I know I stink"

Spike refrained from comment as the only things he could think of wouldn't aid his cause any.

Xander looked out the passenger window, wondering just exactly how Spike had managed to

make him tell one of his most treasured secrets so easily. It felt like he'd had no control at all.

Spike spoke in that tone of voice and he responded . . . like some sort of pet. oh shit

Xander started to say something, then he realized where they were.

"Stop the car. Stop!"

Spike slammed on the brakes, sure that something was wrong.

Xander jumped out, demanded that Spike open the trunk, then jittered from foot to foot until he

did.

When Spike stepped back, Xander rummaged in his duffel and pulled out some clothes, a towel

and a bar of soap.

He headed for a sewer housing at a fast walk, holding something in his hand. Spike realized that

it was a simple screwdriver. He snickered. Who knew that the boy had it in him?

Spike watched as Xander used the screwdriver to jigger the door knob. He followed him into the

utility tunnel that led under the swimming pool. He wondered what the hell the boy was up to

now.

Xander stripped off his sweaty work clothes and stepped under a cascade of water coming from a

pipe high on the wall of the chamber

"Ohfuckohshit. Coldcoldcold."

Xander shivered violently, scrambled out of the falling water and started soaping himself.

Spike realized that he was using the swimming pool overflow to shower. The freezing cold

overflow.

Xander stepped back into the water with a yelp. Rinsing quickly, he grabbed the towel and rubbed

vigorously. It didn't help much; he was still shivering as he dressed in his clean clothing.

Spike waited for him to finish, then he just smacked him on the back of the head.

"Hey. What was that for?"

"You're the stupidest git I ever saw. You're gonna catch your death. Shoulda waited until we got

to my place."

Xander rubbed the back of his head. "Your place? I'm not going to your place."

Spike glared at Xander for a moment. "Yeah, ya are." Xander opened his mouth. "Do. Not.

Argue. With. Me." Xander shut his mouth, gave Spike a frustrated look and headed for the car.

When they got to Spike's new apartment, Spike opened the door.

"Come in, pet."

Xander hesitantly entered the large industrial design living space. The apartment was huge,

windowless and Xander was immediately suspicious. "How'd you get this? Where'd you get the

money? The . . ."

"Shut it." Xander stopped babbling in mid sentence. "I got the money from the Order. Or rather

they got it from me and then gave it back. Come here."

Xander blinked at Spike for a second. "No. Not a chance, no way, no how. Not happening."

Spike shrugged. "Okay. But if one of my minions eats you, don't blame me."

Xander gulped, wondered why he was doing this, and went to Spike.

"Now, this is the way it is. I'm not havin' you live in that tunnel. Not safe, is it? You're not

gettin' enough sleep. I'll have one of the minions wake you in time for work. Eat a good breckie, yeah? All that shit."

Xander shuddered as Spike licked his neck from collar bone to jaw. He just stood for a second,

then started to wipe his neck. Spike grabbed his hand and stopped him.

"Leave it. I put my scent on you. The minions will know better than to mess with you now. I'll show you your room."

Spike showed Xander to a large bedroom done in shades of brown and cream with brick and

charcoal accents. He also showed him where the laundry was, telling him to just dump his things

there and someone would do them.

Next Spike pointed to a door at the end of the hall.

"Don't go in there. It's the minions' quarters. Don't want any accidents, do we?"

Xander followed Spike back to his room.

"Okay. What the hell is going on? Why are you being so nice to me?"

Spike smirked at Xander, oddly reassuring him. "Got ulterior motives, I do. Don't worry your

pretty little head about it. I'm not going to do anything you won't learn to like."

Xander shuddered. "That's what I'm afraid of."

Spike listened at the closed door until Xander settled in bed, then he went in search of someone.

"Timmins. Come here."

The slight figure came to Spike and knelt at his feet, cringing slightly. Spike eyed him for a

moment. He was ragged but clean, and he had that pseudo elegant accent that Spike recognized.

"Who were you?"

Timmins looked at hisMaster. Few Master Vampires cared who their minions used to be.

"I was a gentleman's gentleman when my employer was turned. He turned me, gave me his blood

until I . . . returned to myself. So to speak. Why do you ask? If that's not impertinent."

Spike bit into his wrist and offered it to the startled vampire. Timmins latched onto the bleeding

gash quickly, sucking until Spike ordered him to stop.

"That's enough. Asked because I got a job for you. My boy needs someone to take care of his

things. And you're going to do it. Touch him wrong, and I'll pull out your guts and play with

them. Understand?"

Timmins didn't even cringe. "No Master, I don't understand. Is he your pet? If he is a pet, why

does he need me? Please . . . I don't want to make you angry. But I need to know what I'm

supposed to do."

Spike snarled in exasperation, his patience severely strained. He hated being around the

Scoobies, but it was especially hard now that he realized how badly they treated Xander. He

understood why they hated him, but they were supposed to love Xander. At least they claimed to.

But they treated him like dirt. They couldn't treat his boy like that and get away with it.

He smiled at Timmins. "He's my revenge on all the Watcher's little darlings. Pearls before swine and all that. Treat him like a Consort. Like a lord. You got me?"

Timmins nodded. "Yes, Master William. I understand. I'll sneak in and unpack his things, shall

I?"

Spike just walked away, smoking a cigarette and planning.


	3. Chapter 3

Ulterior Motives 3

Betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1 (both wonderful caring ladies, thanks to you both)

Spike wandered into the living room wearing pajama bottoms and a scowl.

"Timmins! Hey! You seen my fags? I'm dyin' for a smoke."

Timmins stuck his head around the kitchen door and called, "You're out. I just sent a minion out to get you some. I'm sorry, sir. I didn't realize until it was too late."

Spike snarled softly but then accepted the proffered cup of tea with a grunt. "Nice to get a proper cuppa."

Timmins bowed "Master. If you could wait on punishing me until I'm done with the young sir's breakfast, I'd appreciate it."

Spike gave Timmins a sharp look over the rim of his cup. Settling deeper into the chair, he shook his head. "Not this time. If you let me run out again, I'll punish you. But I'm learnin' stuff from that Watcher. 'E's not a complete git. Finish Xander's breakfast then go wake him."

Timmins shifted from foot to foot for a second, then took his courage in both hands. "Master . . . please."

Spike sighed. "Spit it out."

"If I might make so bold . . . you should wake him yourself. And see to it that he showers, has food, clothing, and anything else. He'll . . . bond . . . er . . . please, Master. I don't know exactly how to explain myself." Timmins stood and shook for a second until Spike hopped up with an odd expression on his face.

"Ya know, you're right. The boy won't bond with me if I dump him off on you. Thanks. You're gonna get a reward. . . later. . . whatever you want. Within reason."

Spike ambled down the hall toward Xander's room. It was still early, for Xander and near Spike's bedtime, so he knew he had to wake the boy now or he'd be late for work. Why the silly wanker wanted to get to work so early escaped him.

"Xander. Wakey wakey. Come on."

Xander opened one eye and gave Spike a bleary look. Then he yelped, tried to get up, got tangled in the covers and fell off the bed. Spike sighed, reached over with one hand and picked Xander up. Using the other hand, he disentangled him and then set him on his feet.

"Stupid git. What's wrong with you?"

Xander grumbled. "How'd you like it if you woke up with me that close to _your_ face?"

"Got a point, pet. You best get a move on if you want a shower before breakfast is ready. Timmins won't appreciate it if it goes cold."

Xander didn't say anything to Spike, he just headed into the bathroom and shut the door with a snap.

Spike grumbled "Well, there's gratitude for ya." and went back to the kitchen to watch Timmins cook.

Xander shambled into the kitchen some ten minutes later with wet hair and a grumpy expression. He was dressed for work in a pair of ragged baggy jeans and a sloppy t-shirt.Spike shuddered at it--the colors would have made a hippy's eyes bleed.

"God, Xanpet, that shirt is horrible. Why can't you find something . . . a little more subdued?"

Xander snarled, "Don't call me that. And I'm not ruining my good stuff with paint. I'm painting all the dry wall I just hung."

Xander reached up to the cupboard and started opening doors. He shuffled things and poked around under the counter top.

"Sir, breakfast is served."

Xander grumped. "I'd like some cereal, please. Or at least a cup of coffee and a Twinkie."

Timmins grimaced at Spike. "Sir, this is for you. Bacon, eggs, toast, jelly and coffee. If you'd like a hot cereal, I'll have to shop. Would you prefer oatmeal, cream of wheat, or muesli?"

Xander looked at the vampire like he'd lost his mind. "Um. . .Cocoa Puffs, Pop-Tarts and coffee is my usual. Plenty of coffee. Okay?"

Spike shuddered. "No, it's not. That stuff'll kill you sooner or later. Eat that!"

Xander sat down and started eating. He stopped suddenly and gave Spike a sharp look then went back to his food. After wolfing down the entire plate and drinking three cups of scalding hot, over-sweet coffee, Xander turned to find Timmins holding his hard hat and tool belt with his tool box at his feet.

"Um . . . thanks. Um . . . Timmins?" Timmins nodded. "Good breakfast. You shouldn't be cooking for me, but thanks."

Xander headed out the door andTimmins noticed he was limping slightly but shrugged it off as the effects of falling out of the bed.

Xander arrived at the site ten minutes early, sweaty and already tired. He'd found out too late that the bus he was depending on didn't go all the way to the site. It went clear to the last stop, to be sure, but that was over a mile from the place he worked. He'd had to walk the rest of the way carrying his tool box.

He settled his box in the back of the hallway where he could keep an eye on it. He pulled out his wallet and counted its contents then sighed. He had enough money to eat lunch today and tomorrow, then it was back to water and crackers.

After getting the paint, Xander started at the far end of the hall and painted the rooms in reverse. It was hot and he sweated heavily, making several trips to the water cooler and taking water back in his bottle every time. Mr. Burk came around and checked on him,complimenting him on not dribbling expensive paint all over the floor.

Xander worked slowly and carefully until lunch then he put his equipment away in a zip lock bag and headed for the chuck wagon. Before he got out of the room he opened his tool box, deciding to check for a clean paint brush before he left. He was surprised and somewhat delighted to find a carefully packed lunch wedged between the tools in the top tray of the box.

"Cool. Hey, and still cold. How the hell did he do that?"

Mr. Burk stuck his head in the room to see who Xander was talking to.

"Talk to yourself? That's okay. But you're in real trouble when you start to argue with yourself."

Xander grinned around a bite of ham sandwich.

"Mmmm, I know. But I got plenty of people to argue with, so I'm good. See Xander bein' good." Xander grinned at Mr Burk, who grinned back. "I'll be done eating in a little."

Mr. Burk sighed. "You have to take the whole hour. Union rules. And don't use your own brushes, we have to provide all consumables."

Xander nodded, chewing vigorously. "Un-huh." He swallowed hard, forcing the mouthful of food down his throat so he could talk. "I forgot. I'll take a walk around, then I'm going to check on paint and brushes. I won't get done today. Probably be noon tomorrow."

Mr. Burk visited with Xander for a few more minutes then left. Xander finished his lunch and sighed happily. He'd have to remember to thank Timmins; the sandwich had been accompanied by fresh fruit salad, Twinkies, and some sort of fruit drink. Xander packed his containers away and closed his tool box, applying a small brass lock to discourage incidental pilferage.

Xander wandered around the site, casually inspecting the buildings and the bare beginnings of a small park. He wondered idly if he could save any of his grandmother's plants from the back yard of his parents' house. It had been hers before she died and left it to his father. Her garden had been her pride and joy, but was now almost nothing more than a memory. Maybe he could salvage some of the plants. He left that thoughtfor the weekend and went to get some new brushes and more paint. He realized that he needed more ventilation; he was feeling a little sick, and hot. The paint fumes were getting to him.

He returned to the room he was painting and sighed. It stank now that he'd been out of it for a while. The fumes were worse than he'd thought they were. He set up the fan he'd gotten from supplies and pointed it out the glassless window, turning it on high. With the fan on, the fumes soon lessened

Xander painted for the next three hours and was more than grateful when the site boss came in and told him to knock off early. The site was shutting down at four instead of five so that an inspector could come in. They were still investigating the broken plate. He cleaned the brushes and closed the paint cans tightly. Then he picked up his tool box and headed for the bus stop.

He had hoped that someone would offer him a ride at least to the stop but he was the last man to be notified of the early shutdown so he missed his chance. Everyone else was already gone. So he slogged his way to the bus stop, feeling a little queasy and definitely sorry for himself. He settled on the bench and dozed off, the heat making him sweat. The bus driver woke him up by honking his horn. Xander thanked him as he gave him his pass. The driver remarked that he was sweating a lot for how cool it was, but Xander ignored him. It _was_ cool in the air-conditioned bus.

Xander wearily pushed the apartment door open and dropped his tool box on the floor next to it. He dumped his tool belt on top of that and his hard hat topped the pile off, slipping into a rakish tilt.

Spike wandered into the living room from somewhere in the depths of the place. He glanced at Xander then hit him with the 'good' news. "Scoobie meeting tonight, pet. Supper's almost ready; ya can sit at thetable with me or eat in the kitchen. Whichever you prefer. I'd suggest a shower before you even try to decide. You smell rotten."

Xander sighed and headed for his suite and the enticing thought of a hot shower. He'd really wanted a long hot soak, but with a Scoobie meeting in the offing he wasn't going to have the time. He turned on the shower and dug out towels while it reached a decent temperature. He found the shampoo and body wash, frowning when he realized that they were unscented. He shrugged and got in the shower, leaning against the cool tiles and letting the hot water wash over him until the tension in his shoulders relaxed a little. Then he scrubbed, quickly washing himself and his hair then reaching for the conditioner. That was when he realized that Spike was in the shower with him. His startled yelp made Spike snicker.

"Heya, pet. Want me to wash your back? Or anything else?"

Xander grabbed for the towel, Spike got in between him and it. Xander tried to sidle out of the shower enclosure, Spike held the door shut.

"Runnin' off, pet? Not very companionable. Kinda gives me the idea you're not exactly . . ." Spike raised his scarred eyebrow, "…grateful. Ya know?"

Xander gulped and started babbling. "Not grateful? What for? Oh, for the loan? I told you I'd pay you back. See me, payin' back man. All I need is a little time. I'll get a check Friday... erm ... not tomorrow Friday...next Friday. Payday Friday. I'll give you...half? The check, I mean. I'm not sure how much it'll be, union dues and all. But I'll give you half, that'll leave me enough to get by on . . . I've got to have lunch money and bus fare, my pass is about to expire . . . and . . . what?! Stop laughing at me . . . what's so funny, anyway? I'm . . . Dammit, Spike. Not good for the manliness. Naked vampire laughin' at a guy." Xander backed up into the back of the shower as he realized that Spike was naked, and wet, and looking very – he put a stop to that thought before it got completely out of hand. "Um . . . naked . . . not good . . . naked vampire . . . with naked Xander . . . naked in a shower naked . . . did I say no . . . not . . . out . . . let me out now . . . Spike, it's not funny."

Spike stepped out of Xander's way and let him out of the shower enclosure, still laughing his head off. Xander glared at him, grabbed a towel and threw it into his face then took another and wrapped it around his waist. Taking the third towel, he draped it over his head to dry his hair. Spike watched this, still chuckling.

"Pet? You better get used to it. I'll be around you . . . a lot. You get dry and dressed and I'll see if Timmins has something nice for your supper. Kitchen or dining room?"

Xander glared. "Kitchen. Definitely kitchen. I'm not watchin' you feed. It's . . . "

"Disgustin'? At least I'm a neat eater. You should have seen Dru sometimes. She'd . . . " Spike snickered. "Never mind, you're gettin green." Spike sauntered out the door, leaving Xander to dry off and try to get a look at his leg.

It was aching and felt hot. Xander couldn't see the cut, all he could do was poke at it with his fingers. This didn't do much good. He couldn't tell anything by feel. So he rubbed some Polysporin on it and did his best to forget about it.

He found jeans and a t-shirt laid out on the bed and blinked, realizing that Spike had put them out. Timmins was cooking, he hoped. He pulled the dark green shirt on and had to laugh softly; the jeans were black. They were also just tight enough that they made his leg hurt. He pulled them off again and found a pair that were looser fitting. When he walked into the kitchen Spike gave him a rather frosty look but refrained from comment, for which Xander was grateful. He did feel a little bit bad about picking different jeans, but not bad enough to make an excuse.

Timmins sighed softly, realizing that the exchange had put his Master in a bad mood. His mood had been uncertain since he'd gotten the call from the man he referred to as 'that Watcher git' and Xander's rejection of his choice of garments had pushed it over into bad.

Xander took pity on the small vampire. And he was small, even smaller than Spike by about two inches and so slender he looked childish, until you got a good look at his face.

"I'm tired. I didn't feel like putting up with tight jeans. They bind me in all the wrong places. Sorry."

Timmins set a plate in front of Xander, who eyed the contents with some disfavor.

"Um, hate to tell you, but that isn't much in the way of dinner."

Timmins just went back to the stove to putter.

Xander ate the shrimp (there was just one) and the tortilla chips (two of those) and wondered if Timmins would laugh at him if he asked for a piece of bread. Spike just looked disgusted.

"That's appetizers, git."

Xander gave Spike a dirty look. Timmins put another plate in front of Xander.

Xander eyed the contents for a second until Timmins rushed into speech.

"Cornish game hen with orange pecan stuffing. Parsley new potatoes and asparagus hollandaise. I hope you approve. If you'd make a list of your favorite foods, I'd be glad to cook them for you."

Xander started to say something but Spike interrupted. "All he eats is salt, fat and sugar. You cook, he eats. End of story. Okay?" Timmins nodded and went back to his cooking, wisely keeping his mouth shut.

Spike shot Xander a challenging look but Xander was too busy wrestling with the hen to notice.

Xander finished up the asparagus hollandaise and sighed. It still wasn't enough food. He was working construction and burning up loads of calories, calories he couldn't really afford not to replace.

Timmins put another plate in front of Xander. This one had a piece of cake, or rather a fragment of cake, on it. And he offered Xander coffee or espresso.

Xander accepted the offer of espresso with a sigh. "I'd like to have one of those big Italian espresso machines like they have at the Espresso Pump. All brass and knobs and stuff . . . maybe, in my dreams."

Spike made a note to look for one.

Xander finished his coffee and stood up too quickly. He had to hold onto the edge of the table for a moment until his head stopped spinning. Spike reached out to him then lowered his hand.

"You okay? You're not drunk, are you?"

Xander gave him a disgusted look. "No, I'm not drunk. Never will be, if I have anything to say about it. I drink a beer now and then and wine with Italian food. But other than that, no way, Jose . So, we got a meeting to go to or what?"

Spike headed out the door with Xander close behind. Xander's request to drive was scornfully rejected, so the drive to Giles's place was short. Xander was proud of the fact that he only screamed, in a manly way, once.

Spike sat in his usual place on the stairs and watched carefully. Xander sat at the big round table and squirmed. The boy sat like the chair had tacks in it.

Giles told Xander to sit still and look in the book he handed him for references to _this_ demon and passed him a piece of paper. Xander squinted at the paper and stuck his nose in the book.

An hour later he gave a growl and thumped the book onto the table. "Latin, why Latin? Why can't I have the Babylonia, or the hieratic?"

Giles gave Xander a sharp look. "You can't read either one. So . . . or ergo, Latin. And don't bash that book about like that. It's very old. Rather valuable and that's not the way you treat a book. Just look for these words." Giles wrote on a piece of scrap paper and handed it to Xander.

Xander grumbled, pulled a notebook out of one baggy pocket and settled down to read again.

Another twenty minutes and Giles came over to check on Xander's progress.

"What's that? Xander, enough doodling. I need you on task, not woolgathering."

Giles reached out to the notebook, starting to crumple the page. Xander reacted in a most unexpected way. He grabbed Giles by the wrist and stopped him cold.

"My notebook. Not your notebook. Let go . . . now."

Giles let go at once, turning pink in the face. "Of course, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. It's just that this incursion is going to be very big and so far none of us has come up with anything. The prophecies all say very big, but not much else. Please pay closer attention to your task and less doodling. All right?"

Xander just sighed, smoothed the page down and returned to his note taking. Spike resolved to get a look at the notebook as soon as he could.

Spike didn't need to look at a clock to know that it was time for them to go; he could feel the moon rising. That meant it was near midnight, so Xander was going to get about six hours' sleep if they left right now.

"Xander, time to go. Now."

Xander just stood up, closed his notebook and followed Spike to the door. Giles looked startled and started to object. Spike shut him up.

"Watcher, he's got to go to work tomorrow, unlike some of you slackers. Power tools? Sleep deprivation? Do the logic yourself." Spike gave the open-mouthed group an encompassing sour look. "I take better care of him than you do and I don't give a damn."

Buffy looked ashamed, mumbled something about 'Riley' and 'leaving' then started to cry. Xander went to her at once and put his arms around her.

"He left? Just like that? You didn't take my advice, did you?"

Buffy sniffled. "I did. I did. But I was too late. He was on the chopper and gone before I could catch him and I can't get hold of him or anything. I'm not even sure who he's with or where they went and Giles can't get any information and I feel so bad. Why me? Why us? I . .. "

Xander made cooing sounds, rubbing Buffy's back in soothing circles and letting her cry on his shoulder. Giles looked uncomfortable and Willow and Tara sniffled in each other's arms. Spike rolled his eyes. That wanker Riley was trouble, no matter where he was. Now Buffy was distracted and a distracted slayer was a dead slayer.

"Xander. Six thirty comes early. Come on. Now!" Spike put a little Master Voice into it and got Xander out the door and headed in the general direction of the car. Giles nodded goodbye in a distracted manner and turned to comforting Buffy. Tara and Willow fluttered around like – Spike could only think 'twittering hens'.

Xander sat looking out the window and worrying on the way back. He grumbled once about turning up the air, which Spike did. He watched Xander out of the corner of his eye and planned. He wasn't going to use the thrall very much, only enough to get the results he wanted while making Xander think it was his own idea. Spike grinned into the darkness.

Spike did wonder about one thing. Why did Xander want to mess about with ancient Babylonian and what the hell was hieratic?

Xander didn't even make a remark about the snack Timmins handed him the second he was in the door. He just drank the hot chocolate, thanked the vampire, and went to bed. Spike realized that he didn't really look well, but he passed it off as new job muscle pains. Timmins wondered what the boy had sat down in.

Timmins slipped into the bedroom and turned on a very small flashlight. It barely glowed but it provided enough light for the vampire valet to see by. He picked up the shirt Xander had dropped and folded it over his arm. He found the jeans on the foot of the bed and picked them up as well. He sniffed, wrinkled his sensitive nose and decided that Xander had probably sat in something at The Magic Box, something that smelled of rotten meat.

He gave the room a quick tidy while he was at it and found the notebook. Xander had dropped it next to the bed when he'd undressed. Timmins started to put the book on the bedside table, but Spike materialized at his side with one hand outstretched.

"I'll make sure it's back where it should be. Give."

Timmins handed the book to Spike and finished his chores.

Spike took the book into the library and settled at his desk to see what Xander guarded so jealously.

He couldn't make head nor tail of it. It was full of doodles, only he kept seeing repeated identical ones, which made him think it was some sort of language. But it wasn't like any language he'd ever seen except some demon dialects which were phonetically based. He closed the notebook and set it on his desk. Xander was very smart, he would be the first to admit it. But he acted stupid and he seemed to have trouble reading. Except, how could he have trouble reading if he could read cuneiform and write his own code? Spike gave up for the night and went out to hunt up his supper.

Xander woke the next morning feeling grumpy and hot. He wondered if Spike felt the cold rather than feeling cold to touch. Then he wondered why he cared.

Breakfast was more or less the same. Spike came in and sat at the table with him. Timmins set out bacon, eggs, fresh melon and coffee. He set a cup of tea in front of Spike and went away.

Spike watched Xander eat; he wasn't stuffing it down like he was afraid someone would take it.

"You okay, pet? Ya look a little flushed."

Xander wiped the last of the egg yolk off the plate with a piece of toast and stuffed it into his mouth.

"I'll live. I just wish you would turn up the air a little. It's stuffy in here . . . tell Timmins thanks, will you? I've got to go or I'll be late."

Spike lit a cigarette and followed Xander to the front door. "Don't know why you insist on leavin' so damn early. Sun's just coming up."

Xander eyed Spike wearily. "I don't have a car. How do you think I get to work? Fly?"

Spike grunted. "Catch a ride, I guess."

"No. I don't know anyone at the site yet. I'm takin' the bus. And walking from the stop to the site. So excuse me if I interrupt your beauty sleep . . . look, I'd love to stay and argue with you all day but I gotta go."

Spike leaned in the door and smoked his cigarette, watching as Xander trudged to the bus stop. He was limping more heavily. Spike decided he'd better ask Xander about it that evening.

Xander made it to the site a little early. Two of the men he worked with saw him walking and picked him up just a few yards from the stop. They told him they lived close enough that they could pick him up no more than a block from Spike's apartment

"Thanks, guys. I'll meet you here at five. Figure out what I'm gonna owe you." Xander slapped the side of the truck to signal he was out of the way and headed into the building. He picked up his tools and the paint from the staging area and headed into the wing he was working on. He sighed and wiped sweat off his forehead. If he was this hot already, he was going to be miserable by noon. He idly wondered what Timmins had packed him for lunch today. He hoped it was something light; his stomach was a little upset and he knew the paint fumes were going to make it worse.

He was right, by noon he'd finished painting one side of the hall and all the rooms that led off it. He'd used up gallons of paint and several brushes and rollers. He was sweaty, hotter than he'd ever been and sick to his stomach. His leg ached like an abscessed tooth. He sat down on the floor, forgetting his brushes and rollers, and fished in his tool box for his lunch.

This time it was egg salad, with lettuce and tomatoes, some sort of orange flavored pudding stuff, and a thermos of ice tea. He managed all the sandwich and the pudding, but the tea was unsweetened and tasted like grass. He went out to the lunch wagon and got a soda, rolling the cool can over his forehead before opening it and chugging it in one go.

Xander returned to his painting before the lunch hour was over, but he could clock out early and make it up that way. "Unions are good. Unions are necessary. Damn unions. I wish I was a journeyman. Fuck." This last was caused by finding out that the roller had dried out and was now useless. Xander squinted at the wrapper, trying to read the instructions for cleaning it. The letters crawled around and fuzzed, the words squiggled. Xander swore and tossed the whole thing, putting a new roller on the handle and going back to his painting.

Spike called Mr Harris and was told that they'd sold the car the minute Xander moved out. He snarled, "Stupid little fuck, wouldn't let go of that piece of crap. Liked the trunk, for some reason. You tell him that he's still got stuff here and if he don't get it I'm puttin' it out in the trash. Two days. And he owes me for storage."

Spike wanted to swear at the man, but he contained his notorious temper and said meekly, "I'm so very sorry, sir. If you put it out on the front porch, I'll see that it is picked up this evening, shortly after dark. I'd come earlier, but I have other obligations. Thank you."

"Well, see that you do. And don't put up with any shit out of Alex. You're gonna find out that he's as dumb as a box a' rocks. Can't hardly read even. Someone with your accent, you from England, right? You'll see. Tell him he owes for storage. Fifty dollars."

Tony thunked the phone down, but Spike heard 'screaming queen, queer accent' and something that started 'limp' and was cut off by the disconnect.

Spike grumbled to himself. He really wanted to give the man a piece of his mind but that wouldn't get him what he wanted. Xander should like it that Spike got all his things for him. Spike smirked to himself. Seduction was one of his specialities, after all. Angel and Darla had been all about torture and he wasn't averse to a bit of the action. But he really only did it to please Dru. She had loved it. Frankly, he got bored after a while. After all, how many ways were there to scream and beg? One 'please don't hurt me' was fairly like another.

He'd send a minion to get Xander's things, without fifty dollars worth of bribe. That was ridiculous. The old fart was an idiot if he thought he'd get away with that one. Spike wondered how Xander had turned out as well as he had.

Spike decided that he was too tired to figure anything else out today.That Fomorian demon had fought back hard. And the wanker had been tough. "Fucker got stuck in my teeth."

Muttering about tough, stringy, and nasty demons, Spike went to bed.

Xander sat down for a moment. He felt worse than ever; hot, sweating, nauseated and dizzy. He still had one whole side of the hall to finish. He knew that he couldn't finish it in one day, but he'd been hoping to get more done than he had.

Still, it was a good start. He decided to take a break, get a drink of water and estimate how much more paint he was going to need. He never saw the floor come up to smack him in the face.

Mr. Burk found him only ten minutes later.

Xander woke to a cold compress on his forehead and fiery embarrassment in his gut. He sat up, holding his head in case it decided to drift away, and tried to get up.

Mr. Burk pushed him back down.

"Oh no, you don't. Heatstroke is nothing to mess around with. Lay back down."

Xander groaned but stayed upright. "I'm fine. I'll get fired. I can't afford to lose this job. I need to pay my friend back. Well, he's not a friend. Like . . . I mean . . . oh, hell. I got to go back to work. I can't lose this job, I just can't."

Mr. Burk sighed.Technically, Xander didn't have any time to take off. But after saving the company several hundred thousand dollars, he figured they could carry him for a while, quite a while.

"Look, you're not going to lose your job. After that save? You bet your life we're going to cut you some major slack."

Xander blinked. "Oh. But that was nothing. I . . well, it was something. Mouth runs away with man. I'm shutting up now."

"I'm calling in a favor and getting you a ride. Why the hell didn't you tell me you didn't have wheels? I'd have gotten you a car home. So, now I owe you. Come on. Can you stand up?"

Xander got to his feet and allowed that he wasn't that shaky. He followed Mr. Burk outside and stood while he got one of the guys to pack up his tools and bring them around. Xander grunted and started to go back inside.

"Oh, no, you don't. Stay right there. You're shaking and sweating. Not a step."

"I locked my box. Hal . . . Al . . . whatever . . . He can't . . . I don't. . . feel so good. Um . . . did I say I can't afford to lose this job?"

Mr. Burk shook his head. The boy was a mess. He was really sick.

"Yes, you did. I promise you won't lose your job. How the hell did you get a stroke so fast? And don't worry about the box. All the stuff I saw laying around belongs to the company. Sit back down."

Xander sat and considered for a moment. "I think it's the fumes. I had a fan, but when I came in this morning it was gone and I didn't want to take the time to get another. And I did . . . I am . . . really hot. And sweating. And . . . I didn't . . . I had a soda. . . . Can I just sit here?"

Mr. Burk nodded. "Yeah, you do that. I'll have Al take you straight home. If you stop sweating, or sweat too much, feel cold or start shivering, see a doc. Got me?"

Xander, being a So-Cal boy, knew all the symptoms of heatstroke. "I know what to look for. I'll call in the morning. Okay?"

Mr. Burk allowed that it was a pretty sure thing that Xander wouldn't be in for at least a few days. He reassured Xander again that he wasn't going to lose his job over this. In fact, he probably was going to collect some money for it. Then he stuffed him into Al's truck and directed Al to take Xander home. Al gave Xander a concerned look and headed in the general direction of Spike's apartment.

Al let Xander out right at the apartment, even going so far as to take Xander's tools to the door for him.

"Thanks, Al, I really appreciate this. You don't even know me. And . . . well, just thanks."

Al patted Xander on the shoulder. "You're a good kid. A little shy but you'll get over that. We all kinda appreciate what you did, fixing that plate. If you hadn't figured out how to hold it together, we'd all be out of work for at least a week. So . . . a ride is a small part of what I owe you. Take it easy. You won't lose your job over this."

Xander leaned against the door for a moment then opened it and literally fell in. Timmins rushed to him, yelling for Spike at the same time.

Spike woke up and was halfway out the door before he even registered it. Timmins was too perfectly trained to yell like that for no reason. And the name Xander was still ringing in his ears.

The sight that met his eyes brought a snarl to his lips and Timmins to his belly on the floor.

"Sir, I found him like this. I swear. I have more self-control than to eat . . . er . . . sir?"

Spike had gotten control of himself at once. Timmins was old, at least two centuries old, and hadmore than enough self-control to avoid eating Xander.

"What the hell is going on?"

"I heard the door open and came to see who it was. It's too early for Master . . . er . . . Xander . . .to be home. When I came in, he was lying on the floor. His tools are just outside, in the sun. I'll collect them as soon as I can. But what can be wrong with him? He was fine this morning."

Spike started to pick Xander up, but Timmins grabbed his feet.

"I've got him."

"Yes, sir, I'm sure you have. But we should both carry him. It'll be much more comfortable for him and there's less chance of bumping his head on the door frame."

Spike snarled slightly at the intimation that he would be so careless, but took Xander under the arms. With Timmins at Xander's feet they carried him into the bedroom and put him on the bed.

Timmins fussed around, pulling down the covers and settling Xander in. Xander snorted and mumbled but didn't wake up.

"He's very hot, Master. Feel him."

Spike put his hand on Xander's neck. He was burning up.

"flu, you think? There's a nasty strain going around just now."

Timmins looked at Xander; somehow, it didn't look like flu. "I'm not sure. I . . . don't think so. But I'm old,soI don't have any experience with human illnesses."

Spike considered. "We'll just strip him down and tuck him in for now. He'll wake up in a while, then we'll ask him what happened."

So Timmins and Spike stripped Xander down to his shorts and tucked him into the bed. He didn't resist but he did grumble a little. And say something about a stroke.

Spike grimaced. "Didn't touch him. So what's he whingeing about?"

Timmins shrugged. "I'm sure I couldn't say, sir. I'll go prepare him some soup, shall I?"

"Yeah, you do that. I'll watch him. Maybe I can figure out what he wants stroked."

Spike sat in the chair Timmins brought him and watched Xander. Xander tossed and turned, sweating and flushed. Spike didn't like the way he looked at all. After a little while he decided to call Giles. Maybe he could give him some idea.

He fished in his pants pocket and pulled out his phone. Flipping it open, he dialed the Watcher's number and waited while it rang, and rang. Finally Giles picked up.

"Giles, here."

Spike noticed that he seemed in a hurry. "I'll make it short. I need some help . . . "

Giles interrupted him. "I have a flight to catch. I have to go to Chicago, make it quick."

"All right, you berk. The boy's sick. . . ."

"Give him some aspirin." Giles hung up.

Spike eyed the phone and swore, refraining from throwing it by main force of will.

He settled in his chair again and thought. Then he dialed again.

"Hello? Tara? . . . Spike. Boy's sick.I need to know what to do."

"S-s-s-sspike! I-i-I'll call W-w-w-willow."

Spike sighed. "Tara, all I need to know is what to do for a human with the flu. Glinda? Glinda? . . . damn!"

Spike waited for Willow to come to the phone, but when she did it was nearly the same as Giles.

"Look, I don't have time for you right now. Tara and I are going to a Wiccan retreat and we have to pack. If you need something, call Buffy. Okay? I'd help you with your . . . whatever. But we really have to get moving or we'll be late and they lock the gate right on time. Call back on Monday and I'll be glad to help you then. Blessed be, bye."

Spike snarled again. "Dammit. I hope it's really flu. And I'm not callin' Buffy, she's worse than useless." Spike remembered the time Giles had flu. Buffy had stood around looking baffled; that wasn't going to be any help. But hope springs eternal.

"Buffy? Spike. Boy's sick. I need to know what to do. . . . No, I don't. Dru's a vampire. Completely different."

Buffy snorted. "Well, do whatever you did for her anyway. And don't bother me with your boy. I've got an incursion to try to stop. If Giles ever figures out what's coming. Tell Xander we need him for coffee and stuff. Tuesday night. Don't forget. Bye."

Buffy slapped the phone back into its cradle and headed for the retreat. She wasn't too sure exactly what she'd gotten herself into but it was better than sitting around worrying.

Spike gritted his teeth so hard they squeaked. Stupid bint. He bit at his lip and decided he had one last chance on the human front.

"Hello? Mrs. Rosenberg? . . . . I'm a friend of Willow's. I can't get ahold of her and I need some advice."

Mrs. Rosenberg settled in her chair, always willing to help young people with their problems. "How may I help you?"

"A friend of mine is sick. I never had to deal with something like this. I don't know what to do. I think he's got the flu, but he mumbled something about a stroke so I'm all at sea."

Mrs. Rosenberg smiled. This man was obviously well bred, his accent definitely British, old school, andvery cultured.

"I'm so sorry to hear that. First, take his temperature. You have a thermometer?"

Spike fished in the bedside table and found pen and paper. "No, but I'll get one. Talk slowly, I'm takin' notes." Spike curled his lip. He hated ballpoint pens.

After a few minutes Mrs. Rosenberg wound down. "Now, if you need any more information there are several very good web sites. I'll give you the URLs. . . . "

Spike interrupted her politely. "I'm sorry, Missus, but I'm not connected. Not very computer savvy. But this should help a lot. I'll get the stuff and get started. Thank you. Good-bye."

Spike couldn't decide how he felt. They were falling into his plan like sheep, but he still felt angry. At least they could help him when the whelp was sick. Spike called in Timmins, gave him the shopping list and a credit card then settled to watch Xander until Timmins came back with everything.

Timmins worried all the way through the drug store. There was something more wrong with the Young Master than flu; he didn't like the way the boy smelled. Something was very wrong. He just wasn't sure how to tell Master William. He knew exactly who Spike was. He was William the Bloody, Bloody Bill. Second Master of the Scourge of Europe. A High Master of the Line of Aurelius, of which there were now only two since the true deaths of The Master and Darla. Drucilla was too crazy to be a Master, she couldn't control herself much less a Childe. So he worried, because he really didn't want to be disemboweled. It hurt. And waiting for it to heal and still doing his duties would be 'inconvenient'

When he returned to the residence Spike greeted him with a grunt and a demand for the stuff.

Spike took the cold medicine and read the directions. It was purple and smelled like grape.

Xander refused it blearily. "Not what I need. Spike . . ." Xander blinked his eyes, trying to bring Spike into focus. "Call Giles. Please. I . . . " Xander's eyes fluttered shut. "I feel really bad. I want Giles. Please? Spike . . . "

Spike couldn't help but snarl. "Not gonna happen. I called him, but he's on his way to Chicago andhe didn't really give me a chance to explain what I needed." Xander forced himself to try to listen to Spike. "Then I called Red, got Glinda. When Red came on, she babbled something about a Wicca retreat and being late, then hung up. Buffy wasn't any help, either. Did the same thing. Only one who tried to help was Mrs. Rosenberg." Spike watched as Xander's head drooped, then snapped back up.

"Look, I really feel terrible. Just listen to me. I think I got heatstroke. Or it's paint fumes. Call a doctor. I'll pay." Xander lay back down, scrabbling at the covers and shivering slightly. "I really . . . " Xander fell back into a daze in the middle of the sentence.

Spike glared at Xander. Trust the whelp to come up with a new one on him. Heatstroke? What the hell was that?

Spike went into the library to see if there was any help there. He hadn't had time to examine the books closely yet. After some searching he found a first aid manual and settled down to read. Timmins brought him some tea and told him that Xander had accepted juice with every evidence of eagerness. Spike stuck his nose back into the book.

After a half hour of reading Spike wasn't much better off than he had been. All the information was detailed but several different problems had the same symptoms. Calling in a doctor was looking more and more necessary. But explaining some things was problematic at best.

Spike took Xander's temperature and eyed the thermometer with a jaundiced eye. "Bloody hell. He's got a hell of a temp, or at least that's what the book says. Depends on his basal temperature. Which I don't know and I bet no one else does either, not even his parents." Spike glanced at Timmins. "Speaking of which, go get Xander's stuff off his daddy's porch. And . . . Timmins. You're invited in."

Timmins blinked. "Sir? Are you sure?"

"Got invited, didn't I? You're my servant. Invite extends to you. If it doesn't, I'll come and invite you in. So, go get his stuff. And . . . Timmins? Bring back every drop of booze in the place, down to the last drop of schnapps. Got me?"

Timmins smiled in a rather feral manner. "Yes, Master, I have it. Every drop." Timmins headed for the door. Turning back, he remarked, "You're evil. You do know that, sir." Spike smirked.

Unfortunately, sending Timmins on that errand left Spike alone with Xander. The high temperature was making him miserable and he was obviously in pain. Spike touched his forehead and flinched. He was burning up.

"Dammit, whelp. Why'd ya have to go and get sick on me?" Spike smoothed Xander's ragged bangs away from his forehead and wondered what he should do.

After thinking things through he went and got a bottle of rubbing alcohol and prepared to give Xander an alcohol rub, hoping to bring down his temperature that way.

"Xander, I need for you to roll over. I'm gonna rub you down, see if I can't get that fever down. Come on." Spike pulled the covers off Xander, who moaned and clutched at them

"Noooo. Don' wanna. Go 'way."

"Well, petulant little git, aintcha." Spike got Xander on his stomach and poured some alcohol into his hand. When he started to rub it into Xander's back, the smell hit him in the face. His sensitive vampire nose revolted at the stench of infection.

"Xander. Wake. Up. Now." Spike put everything he had into the command.

At the order, Xander rallied enough to peer at Spike through fever blurred eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. What?"

Spike grabbed his limited patience with both hands and held on. "Did you hurt yourself at the site?"

"Yeah. I took care of it, though. It's just a scratch."

Spike grimaced. Most people in this day and age didn't realize how dangerous even a scratch could be. He could remember a time when a simple splinter could lead to amputation**, so **he demanded to see the scratch.

Xander rolled over, grumbling but cooperative. He felt too bad to argue; it was simpler and easier to just go along. He fumbled with the leg of his shorts and whimpered when Spike impatiently pushed it up, poking the wound in the process.

Spike took one look at the infected 'scratch' and snarled. "Bloody jumpin' hell, pet. That's not a scratch. It's a bleedin' . . . Shit. Is there something in there? How did you do this?"

Xander cooperated as Spike shoved a pillow under his hips so he could get a better look.

"I had to do some climbing and I dragged my butt over something sharp. I picked up a splinter, but I pulled it out. I put stuff on it. Spike, let me alone, I don't feel like arguing with you."

"Not arguing, am I, pet? You'll do what I say. Lay there and let me look."

Xander closed his eyes and shivered. "I'm cold."

Spike threw a nearby towel over Xander's shoulders and pulled his shorts down to his knees. The wound site was red, swollen and hot. Spike barely noticed Xander's exposed pucker or his 'dangly bits' he was too focused on the wound.

"Dammit, you stupid git. In my time you'd be dead in a week. That's a nasty infection. I'll clean it out and see what's what. Hold still."

Xander wriggled around, trying to see what Spike was doing, annoying the vampire into snarling at him. Xander stopped wriggling.

"Well, Xanpet. That's asnasty as it gets. I'll just open it and see what's in there. There's got to be something."

Xander tried to roll over but Spike pinned him with one hand between his shoulder blades.

"You're no doctor, I don't want you messing around with it. And don't call me that. I'm not a pet."

Spike held Xander until he stopped struggling, which didn't take long. He was way too sick to struggle much and the argument took every last bit of his energy. He gave up and lay still.

Spike vamped and used one of his sharp talons to open the wound. He turned his head when his efforts resulted in a gush of pus. He used a square of cloth he tore from a pillow case to wipe out the wound, much to Xander's displeasure.

"Be still. There's still something in there." Spike decided that his rough and ready skills weren't going to do Xander much good so he covered him with the sheet and asked him if he wanted the blanket too.

Xander eyed him suspiciously. "Yeah, I would. Why are you being so nice to me? What do you want?"

Spike lit a cigarette to hide his expression. "Don't want anything. Got ulterior motives, I do. I'm callin' in a healer. Don't want you to lose that leg. Get some sleep if you can."

Xander gave up. The last of his energy had deserted him and he felt worse than ever. He just rolled over, pulling the covers up to his chin and closing his eyes.

Spike left to make a few calls and pull in some favors.


	4. Chapter 4

Ulterior Motives 4

Xander slept for a while then woke, feeling worse than ever. He wondered what the hell Spike was up to but felt too bad to follow the thought for more than a second or two. He fell back into a sleep that rapidly worsened into unconsciousness.

Spike was on the phone for several minutes then he went to his office to send information to the Head of the Order of Taraka. Then he went to check on Xander again. Xander was asleep, but he wasn't resting. He kept flinching and twitching. Spike could tell that he was getting worse.

Timmins came into the room with a thermometer. "Master, the other things you asked for are here. The healer called, as well. He says that he'll be here at 6pm. He can't get here any sooner."

Spike snarled. Xander was sick and getting worse by the second. He'd hoped that draining the wound on his leg would fix this but it hadn't. There was still something in the wound but Spike was wise enough to realize that he wasn't up to doctoring a sick human, no matter what anyone said. He would have to wait for the healer.

While he waited, Spike took Xander's temperature and was dismayed to find that it was 103 degrees. This was not good. Spike tried another alcohol rub and it helped for a little while but Xander's temp was up again in no time. He was getting delirious.

Spike snarled; he didn't know what to do. He called the healer again and got his answering service. He left a message that the 'bloody git' had better get there pronto, if his 'boy' died there'd be hell to pay. The lady on the other end of the line just said 'Yes, Master Spike' in a rather bored tone of voice and promised to pass on the message verbatim.

The healer arrived less than an hour later, took one look at Xander and demanded to know when Spike had intended to tell him that the boy had an infection.

"Told you he got cut. Why would I want you for a simple cut?"

"Well, you have a point. Now show me the injury. Do you have any idea how long ago it happened? Or . . . ." At Spike's sharp and very annoyed look the healer snapped his mouth shut.

Spike wrestled Xander onto his belly and stripped him again. Getting the shorts on him had been difficult enough. Getting them off and back on again probably wasn't going to be any fun at all.

The healer took one look at the ragged cut on the back of Xander's thigh and sighed. "Well, it's badly infected. Why didn't you do something about it earlier?"

"Didn't know about it, now did I? I'd 'a done something if I had. Boy's too used to hiding his pains. 'Rents are bad people. He got hurt at work." Spike pinned the healer with a stony glare. "I take care of what's mine. So fix him."

Xander moaned softly. He was shivering. Spike snarled at the healer, "Will you get on with it?"

After examining the cut and grumbling about foreign matter in the wound, the healer declared himself ready to start.

"Master Spike, you need to hold him still while I clean out the wound. It has to be clean before I heal it or it'll just become re-infected.

Spike settled Xander across his lap, covering his back and shoulders with a fold of the comforter. He was so hot that, to Spike's vampiriccoolness, he felt like he was on fire.

"Oi, and what the hell is your name? Come in here without an intro. Can't keep callin' you 'healer', now can I?"

"My name is Josiah. I thought you knew it."

"No, just called the service and told them to send someone along. What now?"

Healer Josiah examined the gouge in Xander's thigh with disgust. "There's definitely something in here." He produced a magnifying glass and used it to find the foreign object. "Sliver of wood . . . and a piece of what looks like metal shaving. Not good. Plenty of infection in here."

He put down the magnifying glass and rummaged in his bag. He took out a thing, Spike didn't recognize it and didn't particularly want to, and poked at Xander. Xander tried to rear up but Spike pinned him down. Josiah continued to prod and poke Xander, then sighed.

"I'll do a spell to heal the wound, but I can't do anything about the systemic infection. That'll have to be treated with antibiotics. And he's going to be difficult to treat because he's really run down. I don't know why you vamps want human pets when you don't know how to take care of them."

Spike bristled. "He's a thrall. His condition is his own fault. He's only been mine about a week. You write up stuff on how to take care of him, I'll follow it. I want him healthy."

"I see. Um . . . not my business but how did you wind up with one of the Slayer's friends as a pet? She's liable to stake you, and whoever did the spell."

Spike smirked at Josiah. "Willow Rosenberg did the spell. She's a very powerful Wicca. Slayer's gonna have a fit when she finds out. But she can't do anything. Time limit on the cancel spell ran out last night. If she or anyone tries to break it, it'll kill him. And me, but they wouldn't care much about that. And if I die, he dies."

Josiah made a face. "I see. And what did he do to the witch to make her that mad at him? If it's any business of mine."

Spike stuck the first thorn in the Scoobies' collective sides. "Nothing. They don't value him like they should. Don't respect him. So they screwed up and I'm benefiting from it. Big time. Now, fix him."

After a long healing chant and a lecture on taking care of his pet, Healer Josiah handed several pages of instructions to Spike and told him to call if Xander's fever didn't break in the night. He also handed Spike three bottles of pills, telling him what each one was for and how often Xander was to have them.

Spike eyed the bottles with sour disfavor. "You know I'm not gonna be able to get that boy to take these, don't you? He's unconscious, you git."

"He's your pet. How you get them into him is up to you."

"Not my pet, I told you. He's a thrall. Big difference."

The healer shrugged, allowed that to a vampire maybe there was a difference but he didn't see it. Then he left, taking his stinky herbs and rattles with him.

Spike snarled and called Timmins. "How in hell are we going to get these pills down Xander's throat?"

Timmins regarded his feverish and restless young Master. "It should be interesting."

"Interesting, my arse. It's fucking impossible! Especially if I offer them." Spike sighed. "But it's gotta be done."

Timmins fetched a glass of water and tried to get Xander to swallow the capsules. They stuck to his tongue, then he spit them out. He didn't exactly fight, but he wasn't cooperative. Spike swore, tossed the first dose then put the pills in Xander's mouth by force. He ordered Xander to swallow, which he did. But he threw the medicine back up almost at once.

After the pills, things went from bad to worse. Xander thrashed and moaned. Spike was beside himself. Everything he knew about medicine he'd learned when his Mother was sick. That was more than a hundred years ago, and he didn't think leeching was going to do Xander much good. The rest of the healing arts he knew, he'd learned for or from Drusilla. Since Xander wasn't a vampire, that wasn't going to be any help either.

"Grammy? Grammy. I feel . . . so bad. Grammy? Can I help in the garden? Please."

Spike listened with some interest to Xander's feverish ramblings. He was learning something in the process of caring for Xander.

Spike smoothed Xander's hair off a sweaty forehead and whispered softly. "Sure, pet. You can help in the garden."

"Grammy. It's all ruined. Dad mowed over it. I tried . . . I did."

Spike got on the bed and gathered Xander into his arms. "Hush . . . it's okay. I know you did. Rest now."

Xander tossed restlessly, hot as a furnace. Spike called Timmins to bring cool water and a cloth. Timmins showed up at once.

"Sir. He's really bad. Should I call the healer again?"

Spike sighed. "If the fever hasn't broken by midnight, I think you'd better."

Xander tossed and moaned, Spike wrestled him under the covers. Xander wrestled himself back out. Spike pinned him down, Xander struggled like his life depended on it.

Xander babbled about his grandmother's garden and cried because it was ruined. Something about mowing over the roses. Spike sighed and called Timmins to fetch morecold water.

He arranged Xander on the bed and was a bit relieved when the boy just lay there. Spike dipped the washcloth in the bowl of cold water and squeezed it out. Folding the cloth, he ran it over Xander's chest, noticing as he did so that Xander wasn't a skinny kid anymore.

Spike continued running the cloth over Xander, down his chest, across his abdomen, then down each arm. He couldn't help noticing that Xander had a respectable six pack and biceps like rocks. He also couldn't help noticing that his temperature was going up instead of down.

In disgust he decided to call Joyce. He didn't want to bother her because she was still sick from the operation, but he was running out of ideas. He got the damn answering machine and that was when he found out how Buffy had managed to settle going to the Wicca group with her conscience. Joyce and Dawn were in France with a tour group from the gallery. He swore and hung up. No sense calling Giles, he was in Chicago. He tried Mrs. Rosenberg and was assured that his call was important and would be answered as soon as possible. Snarling, he refrained from throwing the cell at the wall. Instead he called Willow's cell.

He got some girl he didn't know. She answered with "Miss Rosenberg is in a Wicca group sensitivity training session. How may I help you?"

"My boy's sick. I need to talk to her as soon as possible. Where is she? Why are you answering her phone?"

The perky voice that answered back grated on his already frayed nerves like sandpaper. "She's incommunicado until further notice. I'll be glad to give her your message as soon as she's out of her meeting. Someone's sick?"

"Yeah." Spike shut his phone and literally growled at it.

At the retreat, the receptionist wrote a note for Willow and pinned it to the message board with a toothpick. (They were out of stick pins again.) She never noticed the breeze that playfully plucked the note off the board and wafted it under the nearby couch.

Spike spent the better part of the next three hours wiping Xander down with cold cloths. He put an ice pack on his forehead and alcohol in the water. Nothing worked, Xander just got worse. Every attempt to get pills down him resulted in projectile vomiting. Xander would swallow on command but it came back up again. Spike worried about that too; dehydration was becoming a real possibility.

Xander didn't respond to anything Spike said to him, only moaned once or twice. He was deteriorating rapidly. The systemic infection wasrunning rampant through his body, his immune system finally taking revenge for his poor diet and over-work. Timmins just handed Spike his phone with the service already keyed in. Spike punched send and jittered in place as the phone rang.

"Healers Clinic. How may I . . ."

"Shut the fuck up and send that Josiah back. Boy's sicker than ever. Keeps throwin' up the pills. And his temp is up."

"Sir, who is this? What boy? Please calm down. If we're to help you, I need details."

Spike snarled. At one time, any service in the underworld would have recognized his voice. "Spike. Xander isn't any better." The female made an enquiring noise. "Human male. Infected cut, back of thigh. Systemic infection. Josiah healed the cut but said the systemic infection would have to be treated with antibiotics. But the boy keeps throwin' them back up. Send him."

"I see. Healer Josiah will be right there. He went off duty about an hour ago, so he's at home. It should only take him . . . fifteen minutes to get there from where he is." The female rang off and Spike pocketed his phone with a growl. Xander wasn't going to die. Spike refused to let him.

When the healer got to the apartment Timmins let him in with the caution that Master William was in a very bad mood. The healer gave him a blank look. "I thought his name was Spike."

"Oh, it is. Master William doesn't just call himself William the Bloody anymore. He also uses the name Spike. But I wouldn't recommend calling him that. It's reserved for friends. Now, to the bad part. Young Master Xander doesn't seem to be able to keep the antibiotics down."

Josiah entered the bedroom just in time to see Spike wiping Xander down again. Xander was limp and Spike had him braced against his chest, running the cool cloth over his back. Spike looked up from what he was doing and snarled, "Fix him. He's only getting worse."

So the healer went over the symptoms with Spike again. He asked every question again. Then he sighed. "I'm not sure what's wrong. Unless he's mildly allergic to penicillin? Could be."

Spike sighed. "Don't ask me. I have no idea what he's allergic to. Except . . . possibly me. So, what do we do now?"

Josiah took an ankh out of his bag and looked through the hoop at Xander. "Yup. He's allergic to penicillin. Not badly, just enough to make it come right back up. I'll prescribe something else. Just give me a sec to check to see what I have with me. The painkillers are okay. Just the antibiotic . . . " he mumbled off as he rummaged around in his bag.

When he produced an IV setup, Spike refused to allow it.

"How do you expect to get antibiotics into him now? He can't swallow the capsules; they're too big and they only come in that size. He'll die on you, sure as check."

Spike raged around the room, snarling and kicking the furniture. Xander whimpered in fear, Spike'sfury penetrating his fevered brain. Spike stopped cold.

"All right. Just . . . what do I do?"

Josiah taped Xander'sarm to a brace, then he deftly inserted the needle and taped it in place.

"I'll inject the medicine in this bag. All you have to do is make sure he doesn't pull out the needle. The next bag is easy to hook up. I'll show you how in a moment. Put the medicine in the bag through this port. Switch it out and pray. I checked. His immune system is so weak he's just not fighting off the infection like he should."

Spike clenched his teeth. Xander's diet was a standing joke amongst the Scooby gang. He hadn't realized that it was actually bad for his health.

Spike stared at the healer with stony eyes. He wanted his boy well and he wanted it now. He knew the healer was doing all he could, but the combined frustration of his inability to contact any of the Scoobies and Xander's deteriorating condition was making him dangerous. He grabbed at the remaining rags of his patience and held on.

"I'm going to have to tape his arm to this splint. Otherwise, he's going to pull the needle out. I've left written instructions on the night stand. If you have any further trouble call me. I know how you vamps are about your 'thralls'." The healer's quotes were evident in his voice.

"Fine. Just stay near your phone in case I need you again."

Spike picked up the cloth, dipped it in the basin, and started wiping Xander down again.

"That's good. That water has alcohol in it?" Spike just grunted. "Good. Keep that up and his fever should break in no time at all. He'll sweat like a pig. But it may take several sweats to break permanently. The antibiotics should take effect within three hours."

Josiah gathered up his trash and left to give Timmins instructions. Spike continued to wipe Xander with his cool cloth. If the temperature didn't break soon, Xander was in serious trouble. High fevers could lead to brain damage and heart and kidney problems. Xander had enough troubles without that.

Timmins entered and took the basin of warming water away. He returned with a new one, handed it to Spike and waited for further orders.

When none were forthcoming, he stationed himself by the door, quietly watching Spike handle Xander. For all his snarking, he was astonishingly gentle with the human.

Xander's fever broke for the first time at midnight. He was lucid enough to ask for Giles or Willow and when Spike explained that he couldn't get hold of anyone his disappointment was evident. Spike refrained from pointing out that he, Spike, was taking care of Xander. When a person was sick, they were bound to be unreasonable.

Xander's fever returned within the hour and he was just as sick as ever. And twice as combative. The IV needle had shifted somehowand was causing him pain. Spike suspected it was due to his inexpert mauling as he changed the IV bag.

It didn't make any difference to Xander. All he knew was it hurt and he wanted it out. After his fifth attempt to remove it made the insertion point bleed, Spike pinned him down and held him. That was when Spike realized that Xander was a lot stronger than anyone suspected. All that construction work had exercised his muscles. Spike had trouble holding him without bruising him. He finally stripped down and crawled in the bed behind Xander. He clasped each of Xander's wrists in a hand and pulled his arms crossed over his chest. He wrapped his legs around Xander's thighs and just held him.

Timmins hesitantly asked if he should continue to wipe Xander down. Spike thought for a moment then nodded grudgingly. He realized that the idea of Timmins touching Xander annoyed him. 'Well, that's different, innit?'

Spike struggled with Xander for what seemed like days. His fever broke, he sweated through the sheets, Timmins changed them while Spike held Xander on his lap in the chair. Then it started all over again. Each time Xander woke to reality he asked for Willow, or Giles. Each time Spike told him they couldn't come to him Xander's disappointment gouged at Spike's unbeating heart.

The boy had such simple wants, it hurt not to be able to grant them. Spike called the retreat again. He got a different, equally perky voice. This time he demanded to talk directly to any of the three girls. He was told in no uncertain terms that it was three in the morning and that was impossible. He snarled and snapped the phone shut, never thinking to leave another message. His first one hadn't gotten any results. It never occurred to him it could have gone astray.

Spike struggled grimly with the thought that his boy might die. He didn't like it at all. He could Change him, but that was exactly what would happen. Xander would change. He wanted Xander, not some unruly fledge with Xander's face. A proper Change took time, a thing that the Old Master had never understood, Angelus had never had patience for and Drusilla had accomplished without a thought.

So Spike wrestled with Xander, keeping him in bed. Keeping him from pulling the IV out. Holding and comforting him as best he could when Xander called for Willow or Giles. Petting and soothing him when he dreamed of his parents.

This last was hard. Spike remembered his mother with a love that Watchers said was impossible for a soulless vampire. Spike wondered if the oriental peoplemight be right. They said that love resided in the liver. All he knew was that he _did_ love, with all of whatever a person loved with. So he couldn't understand not loving your own child.

When Xander's fever broke for the last time, Spike was relieved. Until the chills started. Spike let out a snarl of pure frustration. How the hell could he cure his boy if he kept changing the rules on him?

Xander was lucid enough by now to know that Spike was trying to help him. He started apologizing the minute Spike snarled.

"Sorry . . . sorry. I know I'm being a giant pain in the ass . . . just . . . call Wills. She'll come . . . or Giles. He'll fix me . . . sorry. I'm sorry."

Spike snarled again. "Shut the hell up. I called all of them. The girls are at some Wicca retreat and Giles is in Chicago. Giles can't get back and I can't get the bints to even come to the phone. Come here, you git. Cover up."

Xander subsided on the bed, whimpering as he shivered convulsively.

"I'm so cold. C-c-c-cold. S-s-s-ooo damn cold. Spike . . . c-c-c-can I h-h-h-have another blanket? P-p-p-p-please?"

Spike motioned to Timmins to put another blanket on the bed. He was staying put. He had Xander where he could get hold of him if he went delirious again and tried to pull out the IV. Timmins tossed another blanket on the bed and wished for an electric one.

Xander drifted in and out of something between sleep and unconsciousness for the greater part of the morning. He alternately chilled and sweated. A call to the healer relieved Spike's mind when Josiah told him that was a sign that Xander was getting better. Spike knew he should get out of the bed but holding Xander was astonishingly nice. He knew his ulterior motives would surprise everyone. Perhaps including himself.

Xander shivered convulsively for such a long time that Spike began to worry again. He also apologized compulsively.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a pain. I'll be better soon. I'd get better if Willow was here. I . . ."

"Shut up, you git." Spike pulled Xander to his chest. Xander struggled weakly for a second, then gave it up as a bad job and just settled down.

"I wish I could get warm. If I could get really warm, I'd be better. It's stupid, but just . . . cuddle me? Please? Don't laugh, okay?"

Spike cuddled Xander. "I won't laugh. What's a little cuddle between master and thrall, after all?" Spike knew Xander wouldn't understand just yet. But he was planting seeds for future sprouting.

"I wish you'd call Willow. Please? I don't mean to be a pest, but she'd come. I'm sure of it. Please?"

So Spike called, handed the phone to Xander and waited while he dealt with the receptionist. Xander didn't have any better luck than Spike had. He got the same runaround, left a message and dissolved into tears.

Spike wrapped his arms around Xander and held him while he sniffled. Then he handed Xander a tissue and waited while he got himself under control.

"Sorry . . . I . . . sorry . . . I shouldn't . . . I just can't stop shivering. I'm . . . sorry. I just want to be warm again."

Spike sighed, pulled Xander into his embrace again, and did some apologizing of his own. "I'm sorry too, pet. I have no warmth to give you. But, I take care of what's mine. Remember that. No matter what it takes. No matter if you hate me for it, I'll keep you safe in this world you've fallen into."

Xander muzzily wondered what the hell Spike was on about, then fell asleep again.

The next time Xander woke he panicked completely. He was going to be late for work. He lunged out of bed and wound up on the floor. He couldn't believe how weak he felt.

Spike charged into the room, gamefaced and ready to fight. When he saw Xander on the floor he pitched a fit.

"You stupid wanker, what the hell do you think you're doing? Get back in that bed, now."

Xander struggled to obey, then wondered why he was. He decided that, weak as he was, it was a good idea. So he struggled onto the bed while Spike held the covers for him.

But he didn't stop complaining. "Spike, I got to get to work. I can't afford to lose this job. How'll I pay my part of the rent if I don't have a job?" Xander pouted. He wouldn't have called it pouting, of course. "I like my job. I'm good at it. It's the only thing I_ am_ good at. Please. Let me up. And why am I still in bed? I want up. Spike, what have you done to me?"

Xander was on the verge of a very real freak out. Spike decided that, even thoughXander was still really sick and weak, he'd better explain some things now. Xander wouldn't calm down until he did.

"Xander, calm down. There's some things I have to explain to you. I was hoping not to have to do it just yet, but you asked and I'll answer.

"First, don't worry about your job. You're on sick leave until further notice. I didn't know about it, but Timmins called you in and faxed over a doctor's note. You're entitled to sick pay until you're well and we could sue. You got injured on the job saving the company a shit load of money. Don't worry about it."

Xander settled back in the bed with a sigh. Spike decided that Xander was going to keep his job no matter what. If it meant that much to the boy, it was a done deal.

"And, second . . . shit . . . I hate to tell you this. I wasn't for quite a while. I wanted to enjoy . . . well, never mind that." Spike realized that he wasn't looking forward to Xander's reaction to the next bit of news.

"You remember that 'friendship' spell Red worked on us?" Xander got a scared look in his eyes and nodded, biting at his lip. "Wasn't a friendship spell. It was a Thralian thrall spell. I gave the Watcher all the notes and looked the spell over myself. It was from Mim's Spell book." Xander groaned softly. "Yeah . . . well . . . you're my thrall. You have to obey me when I give you a command in Master's Voice. You can't resist."

Xander pulled the covers up to his chin, shaking his head in denial. "No. Not possible. Willow wouldn't do that to me. She's my bestest bud. You're lying."

Spike just sighed. "Sorry, pet. She means well. But her magic isn't . . . experienced. Whatever. And she doesn't translate things all that well. How the Watcher thinks she is such a great translator is beyond me." Spike dismissed Xander's guilty look. "So, I guess proof is in order."

Xander shuddered. Spike would lie at the drop of a hat. He caused trouble for the fun of it. But somehow Xander knew Spike was telling him the truth. He didn't want to believe it.

"I know you won't believe it without proof so . . . Uncover yourself. Now!"

Xander tried to resist the command but he found himself tossing the covers aside. He realized that he was naked under the covers and flushed heavily.

"Well, well, I got myself a real stud. Cover up. You'll be cold again."

Xander just lay staring at Spike with dilated eyes. He shook his head. "No. Willow wouldn't . . . she couldn't . . . I . . . you . . . oh, god."

Xander covered his face with shaking hands and started to cry weakly. He felt so bad still and this was just too much to handle.

"How could she? She knows that Mim's is a joke. Who ever said that Mim's was any good must have been dumber than me. All the spells in that book are fucked up. That guy Mim was an idiot."

Spike sat down on the edge of the bed. "No, Mim hated humans. He wrote that book as a . . . booby trap, if you will. He just mistranslated parts of the spells from the originals. If you check different references, you'll see that each spell is real. It just doesn't do what he says it will. And Red substituted like mad."

Xander groaned. "She's always doing that. I told her and told her. One substitution won't make that much difference, but when you make several there's no telling what might happen. What was the spell supposed to do?"

Spike sighed, this was the part he wasn't looking forward to.

"Well, it's a perverted love spell. Don't get your knickers in a twist. Not that kind of pervert." Xander relaxed again, sort of. "The spelled is supposed to adore the speller. But since it was cast by a third party, who the hell knows? Especially with some of the substitutions Red used. I have to study the thing. But I can tell you this: It can't be broken. If they try, both of us will die. If I die, you die. If you die . . . I'm not sure, but it won't be pretty."

Xander blinked a few times. "Well, shit . . . I didn't know there was a thrall spell without an escape clause of some sort."

Spike wished for a cigarette but wouldn't smoke around Xander while he was sick. This was the part that was going to hurt the boy the most. "There was one. But between the substitutions and Mim's perverted sense of humor, it only lasted about a week. If the Watcher had checked over the notes like I asked him or if Red hadn't been so hot at hand, we – and I do mean we – wouldn't be in this mess. So . . ."

Xander just lay back and covered his head with the sheet. "Go away, Spike. I know we're stuck with each other forever, but . . . just . . . go away. I feel like hell and this isn't . . . just go."

Spike decided to take the coward's way out and go.

He didn't go far or stay away very long. He left Xander to get himself back together then went back in to see if Xander thought he could eat some broth. Xander had quickly cried himself out and was blowing his nose on a handful of tissues.

"No, I don't want any. I hate broth. . . . oh. . . . but . .. pudding.I could go for some chocolate pudding. Creamy, rich, yummy chocolate."

Spike rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder you don't smell like chocolate, as much as you eat of it. I'll see what Timmins can come up with. But your diet is going to change. Big time. You got sick partly because you don't eat right."

Xander made a face. "I don't eat right because I can't cook. All I get is fast food or cereal. So don't go makin' with that face at me. You don't like the way I eat, change the way I cook."

Spike just shrugged. "Timmins will cook from now on. You've been eatin' his cooking for the last week. Like most of what he cooked, didn't ya?"

Xander settled wearily back in the bed. "Look. I feel like I've been run over by a Tralka demon. I don't like anything I've heard in the last four hours. Just hand me food, I'll eat it. I'm not that particular, no matter what anyone says. If it's not rotten, I'll eat it. Just make sure it's not moldy."

Xander was asleep before Spike could tell him that he'd never feed him moldy food. Then he realized what Xander was really saying and swore. In other words, he was picky about eating green things because green usually meant moldy. Spike wondered if he could get into the house and eat Xander parents. The chip shouldn't cause trouble, they obviously weren't human.

He told Timmins to see about Xander's diet. Timmins just handed him a mug of warm blood and nodded.

Spike took the opportunity to shower, change into comfortable sweats and get some sleep. Timmins knew to wake him if Xander so much as twitched.

Spike slept himself out and rose to greet the night with a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He'd been on a diet of pig blood so long that rich human stuff made him logy until he digested it. He didn't like the way the preservative in the bagged stuff tasted either and it made him queasy. Between the two sensations he usually woke in a bad mood. He really wished he could dine the way the Eldest did. But what with the chip and one thing and another, he didn't see how it was possible.

Timmins handed him a bicarbonate of soda and a cup of tea. Spike took the bicarb and gulped it down with a grimace. The tea failed to take all the taste out of his mouth. He sipped it and settled in his favorite chair.

"How's Xander?"

"Sleeping, still . . . Sir?" Spike raised and enquiring eyebrow. "Is something wrong with your blood? You make such a face."

Spike explained about the taste of the sodium heparin and how it upset his stomach. Timmins nodded his understanding.

"Just so, sir. I find the taste objectionable as well. Perhaps there is something to be done?"

Spike snarled. 'The only thing to be done is get blood direct from the tap. And I can't. You know about that damn chip?" Timmins nodded. "Can't bite. Can't fight. Not humans, at any rate. Demons, yeah. And demon blood is good. But it's not human and there's something in human blood that I crave and can't get anywhere else."

Timmins thought for a moment. "Perhaps the micro nutrients. Those trace elements. The balance isn't right in anything but human blood. I'll see what I can do about procuring something better. Let me think about it."

Spike nodded his acceptance and thanked his unlucky stars that he'd found Timmins. He was well on the way to rebuilding his court. And without Drusilla to cause her usual problems, this time he was going to have peace and quiet when he wanted it. And his court wasn't going to produce the usual surfeit of useless, moronic newbies that mobbed the Hellmouth like cockroaches. One of the reasons he was here was the Order wanted to know how they were produced.

After snarling in disgust, he called his immediate superior in the Order. He was supposed to have called again last night. When he reached the High Master, he was told that his request was taken under advisement. They would check up on the substitutions and see what they could come up with. However, the demon didn't offer much hope. He ended the conversation by saying, "We'll have new orders for you next week at the latest, probably much sooner. This affair with the human is nothing. You are a Master of the Order and it's time you lived up to your responsibilities. You kept Drusilla out of trouble for most of a hundred years. That's all we can expect of you in that respect, but you still have obligations that you must fulfill. Especially as you are the Master of your line now."

Spike spluttered and swore but the demon had already hung up. Spike allowed temper to get the best of him and hurled his cell phone into the wall. It promptly shattered into bits, which Spike had to duck.

Timmins stuck his head in the door then withdrew it. He wasn't willing to brave William the Bloody in a temper. He knew way too much about Master Vampires and their tempers.

Spike snarled around for a few moments muttering about 'obligations, my arse' and taking his ire out on the concrete walls. He calmed himself down and went to check on Xander.

Xander was suspended in the world between sleep and waking where he was happy again. Grammy was there, showing him how to grow her beloved flowers and herbs. The garden was its old riot of colors and scents. Xander knelt on the crushed gravel walk, clippers in hand, snipping off sprigs of thyme for the lamb roast she was going to fix for supper.

The roses were just beginning to bloom and honeysuckle was sending out tender new shoots. He was going to plant pansies next. He loved this garden; it was a refuge from the constant fighting.

The fighting was getting worse as his dad and mom got drunk more and more often. Grammy threatened to throw them out. They threatened to take Xander and go. Xander crouched behind the couch or in the closet. He couldn't stand the screaming.

Spike noticed that Xander's eyes were flicking back and forth behind his lids. He was making soft whimpering sounds. Only a few moments before he'd been smiling in his sleep. Spike slipped into the bed behind Xander and pulled his twitching body against his cool chest.

"Hey, sleepy head. Wake up. You're havin' a bad dream. Come on, boy, up and at 'em."

Xander came awake with a start, which pulled at the IV in his arm. That made it bleed, and him grunt at the sharp pain of the needle twisting in his flesh. The tape didn't help any, either. It was bunched up in the bend of his elbow and it pinched. He tried to stifle the yelp but didn't quite succeed.

Spike petted him for a moment. "What? . . . What hurts? I'll fix it if I can."

"The needle . . . and the tape. And . . . all of me. What exactly happened? I remember . . . you washing me . . . only . . . and someone chanting? Spike . . ." Xander picked irritably at the tape and got his hand smacked.

"Leave it. I'll take the IV out when the healer tells me it's okay. Or rather he will. Starting at the beginning. You cut yourself somehow or other. It got infected, which got into your system. You got a fever . . . and let me tell you. The next time you don't take care of yourself, I'll whip you bloody. Get me?" Xander got a funny look on his face, nodded stiffly then hung his head. "Good. So, the infection from your leg got into your system so the healer couldn't do anything about it. He healed the cut." Xander groped himself, searching for the cut. "Stop that. It's healed, I said. But he couldn't do anything for the systemic infection. That's why you feel so bad. I read his notes. They say you could be laid up for as much as two weeks. Not my idea of fun, nursin' you. So you better stay in bed and get well real quick. Timmins will bring you some food. Eat it."

Spike got up and started to leave, but Xander's soft 'Stay a while? Please?' made him sit back down, this time in the chair by the bed.

"Okay, I'll stay a while. What do you need?"

Xander picked at the coverlet for a moment. "Nothing, really. I just . . . Willow ever call? Or Giles?"

Spike watched as Xander's big heart broke. "No. The bints are in a Wicca retreat. I'm gonna go up there and eat someone. I left a message. No one answered. I'd think that Red would at least call to see what's what. And Giles is in Chicago. I really can't see that he could be of any help from there. Mrs. Rosenberg tried but she thought it was flu. So did I until I saw that cut. Stupid git. You could have died. Next time you get wounded, let me know. I'll either nurse it or call a healer."

Xander just nodded and scrooched down in the bed. He pulled the covers up to his chin and settled down to try to sleep again.

"Tell me about your granny's garden."

Xander gave Spike a surprised look, then shrugged and started talking. He told Spike about how the house belonged to his grandmother. When the Harrises had moved in his father had taken it into his head to buy a swimming pool but there was no place to put it because of the cottage garden. So he hated it. But Grammy hadn't budged, the garden stayed.

He told Spike about how much he'd loved that garden and all he could remember about it. What plants had been in it and how his father had sprayed the paths of mother of thyme and killed it all. How he'd managed to save most of the garden by sheer stubbornness. But he'd been off Scoobying and the old man had mown over it while he was gone.

"So, no more garden. The roses are all gone, nothing left but stubs. I . . . Spike . . . I know you think I'm a big baby, but just go, okay? . . . I want to . . . don't you dare laugh."

Spike nearly cried himself. It wasn't that much to want. Just a bit of earth to call his own with a flower or two. He got an idea that he knew would please Xander. All he had to do was figure out how to do it.

Spike left Xander sleeping and Timmins keeping an eye on him.

He climbed into his new car and headed for the Harris residence. He enjoyed the trip now that he had a decent car to drive. The car wasn't what anyone would have expected for him. He knew everyone would expect him to drive something hot, small and uncomfortable. Or a Hummer or something. But not him. He was driving a Mercedes-Benz Cl-65 AMG. It had a hand built V-12 engine that generated 604 hp. His taste had always been influenced by first Angelus, then Dru. Now that he was out from under both of them he realized that he liked his comforts.

And this car was comfortable: tinted windows, huge trunk, comfy interior. And it was a beast, 0-65 in 4.7 seconds. He smirked to himself. Cordelia would be livid. He wondered what kind of car Xander wanted.

He sighed as he pulled up in front of the house. It was nearly derelict, much worse than when he'd been a 'guest' in the basement. He didn't ever remember paying much attention to the back yard. He surely didn't remember a garden. Especially a cottage garden.

After reconnoitering, he slipped into the basement, through the house, and up to the room Xander had told him his grandmother stayed in. Through the window he saw the garden, or what was left of it.

It had been mowed down, all right. Spike hoped that Tony had ruined his lawn mower. The roses had been large bushes. He eyed the resultant ruin with disgust. Dipping a hand in his duster, he pulled out a watercolor box and rummaged ina nearby desk for a decent piece of paper to paint on.

Resting the box on his knee, he outlined the garden by color, painting the urn in the middle as a large grey blob. Then he painted the paths and just colored in the sections with blobs of color. After he waved the painting to dry the colors, he used his fountain pen to write in the names of plants that he recognized. It didn't take him long and the snoring of Xander's mom sleeping in the nearby bed didn't bother him at all.

He took the time to explore the house a little. Xander's room still smelled like him. He rummaged in the closet and found an access hatch to the attic. Insatiably curious, he pushed it up and stuck his head in.

What he found didn't surprise him all that much. He lifted the box down and opened it. Inside was a collection of odds and ends, things a small boy might consider treasures. Spike tucked it under his arm and continued his explorations.

He gathered every bottle of liquor he could find and dumped it down the sink. He left the bottles on the kitchen table. He searched the house from top to bottom looking for anything that belonged to Xander. He'd know by the smell. And he did find some things.

He wasn't sure why some of the stuff smelled so strongly of Xander, but they did, so he took them. There was so much stuff that Spike pulled a humpbacked trunk from the old lady's closet and opened it. It was half full of things so Spike just dumped his finds in on top, then he saw the antique linens on the shelf in that closet and snitched them for himself. He shut the trunk, hoisted it onto one shoulder and left.

vignette

Buffy grumbled under her breath. She hadn't bargained for being cut off from the outside world for the whole of the weekend. But here she was in a Wicca sensitivity training session, which bored her silly. Excuse me . . . Slayer here?

Tara had her eyes locked on the speaker with an intensity that was absolute and Willow was no better. Neither of the witches seemed disturbed that they were cut off except for declared emergencies. Whatever that meant.

Spike stuffed the trunk into his closet and told Timmins to unpack it when Xander was better. Then promptly forgot all about it.

Xander demanded to know where he'd been, so Spike showed him the rather soppy water color he'd done of the garden. Xander eyed it for a second then took it.

"Well, I didn't know you even knew what a water color was. This is . . ."

Spike snorted. "I had to use spit for water. My teacher would roll in his grave, if he had one, that is. But I was properly educated, no matter what Peaches thought of it. And had the Grand Tour as well, twice . . . um . . . once after I was turned. Not that that makes much difference." Spike rolled his eyes. "And you have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

Xander snorted. "Do too. Grand Tour of the Continent. Every young gentleman did it. If their family could afford it. You that well off?"

"Yeah, family had money. Minor nobility. We just didn't have a residence. Mother hated big houses, she grew up in one. Didn't like having to supervise a bunch of servants. I had just come back from my tour when Dru worked her magic. So. I'll do you a better one later."

Xander flopped back in the bed. "Thanks. But . . . I appreciate the offer, don't get me wrong. But, a picture doesn't smell." Xander pulled the covers up to his chin and settled back to try to sleep again.

"Don't fall asleep just yet." Xander opened one eye and waited. "If you remember what plants were in the places I didn't label, maybe I could do something about a . . . copy . . or sommat. Don't know just what yet . . . the Order wants me to do something, but they won't tell me just yet."

Xander decided that Spike was just being Spikely vague and forgot about the Order of whatever at once. "Well, how are we going to recreate a garden in this paved over industrial park? And how am I going to pay for it?"

Spike shrugged. "You're the construction worker. Figure it out. . . as to paying for it, I'll pay. I got the dosh."

Xander gave Spike a 'look'. "What? I do."

"Then why have you been living in a crypt and depending on us for pig's blood?"

"Because I owed The Order of Taraka a big debt. Got three of their best done because the Hellmouth hates me. Keep an eye on the Slayer, make sure she keeps the Hellmouth under control. Dust the surplus newbies. Blah, blah, blah. Now that I've paid up, I got my accounts back. In very good shape, I might add."

Xander's skeptical look made Spike sigh. "Okay, what?"

"You're a Master Vampire. I thought you didn't answer to anyone."

"I don't answer to Angel. Not anymore. He gave me up, me and Dru, when he got that damn soul. But everyone answers to someone. Even me. I'm a High Master of the Order of Taraka. I answer to the Head of the Order. The consequences aren't . . . nice. I really don't want to spend a decade in a coffin starvin'. Seen it done. Nasty."

Xander blinked once. Spike was really a member of some Order and he was scared enough that he obeyed the Head of it. He'd have to think about that . . . later.

Spike noticed Xander's drooping eyelids so he tucked him in and told him to stay in the bed and sleep. Xander started to argue but a huge yawn interrupted him. He settled down and fell asleep almost immediately.

vignette

Giles checked his cell phone messages and sighed. Spike had called at least twice. He listened to the first message, which was about Xander's flu. There wasn't much he could do from Chicago, so he deleted it. He didn't bother with any of the rest of the messages from Spike. It would only be more of the same or some snarking. He wasn't in the mood.

Xander was a big boy and could take care of himself. It was only flu, after all.

When Giles got home, he realized that the power was off. He checked his answering machine but without power, or an emergency battery, all his messages were lost. He decided if anything was truly important, they would call back.

Spike called the Order and finally got information on what they wanted him to do. He nearly had a conniption.

"You want me to what?"

"Control the Hellmouth. You're there. You're a High Master. Start a proper court. Not one of those haphazard things you usually set up. A real court. And don't argue. You're still in our black books."

Spike snarled wordlessly then sighed. "All right, I'll do it. Now, about those notes I faxed you. What do you have for me?"

The voice on the other end sounded decidedly disgusted. "That's another thing. You need to see if you can't control that witch. She's made a regular cockup of that spell. She substituted things that made the experts here shudder. You're stuck with that human. And he's not a pet! Be sure you understand that. You will find out exactly what the repercussions of the spell are. We're not sure. Just remember, he dies, you die. I'd advise you to treat him right. A true Master will show his mastery. See that you don't embarrass us again. Good-bye."

Spike snarled at the phone and grumbled. "What the hell do you think I'm settin' up here, if not a proper court? Wanted one for years, didn't I? Drusilla made that impossible, what with her flamin' fish and singin' stars an' whatall. Real High Master, ain't I? Chip or no chip, I can control a court. An' I'll gut anyone who says different."

Spike checked on Xander, saw that he was still asleep and went into the second level of his apartment.

The residence he called an apartment wasn't really that at all. It was actually three levels of a warehouse complex turned into what amounted to a mansion. His level consisted of a kitchen, living room, library, office, game room and several bedrooms, beside his own suite. Xander had the only other suite in the place.

The second floor consisted of several dormitories for servants, fledges mostly, and whoever Spike decided deserved a bed. The third level was undeveloped. For now.

Spike called a full court, he wanted everybody assembled within the hour. He got what he wanted.

When he entered the large assembly hall, he noticed that his court had already divided into cliques. 'Well, shite.'

"I called you all here for one reason – instructions.

"Number one. The boy. My boy, Xander. You. Will. Not. Touch. Him. He's mine. You do, you'll regret it for a long time. Mark my words. This is a proper court. The Order has commanded it. Anyone wants to question a High Master Vampire and a High Master in the Order of Taraka is welcome to do so. At their peril. I don't have patience with idiots. Obey orders. First order, no more killing. I don't fancy cleaning up someone else's messes. I did enough of that with Dru. I don't want to be run out of Sunnydale in the middle of the night. Had enough of that. You get hungry, either dispose of the body proper or don't kill them. Your choice.

"Second order. I'm the only one who turns anyone. I catch you turning someone, you're dust. Simple. Easy. Any questions?"

Spike swept the court with a glacial blue glare that said there'd better not be. He dismissed the thirty or so vampires with an arrogant gesture and pulled out his smokes.

"Well, that wasn't so bad. Was it?"

Timmins allowed that it had been 'interesting', and wondered how long it would be before Spike started asking the right questions. He didn't think it would be long.

May 9, 2006


	5. Chapter 5

Ulterior Motives 5

Betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1

Xander woke up and wondered why he felt like he'd been run over. Then he remembered and groaned. His attempt to sit up was foiled by Spike, who simply put one hand on his chest and waited for him to calm down.

"Settle. You're still sick. You'll feel better, then you'll get worse again. I'm not playin' nursie to you forever. Timmins will be in in a few with some broth. Drink it.

"An' while I'm fratchin' at ya, how the hell did you manage to get so run down? I know you don't eat like ya should what with not cookin' and all. But the Healer said you're worn out. What's up?"

Xander forced himself to keep his eyes open even though he wanted to go back to sleep already.

"Don't know either. All I can tell you is that I'm really tired all the time. And walking from the bus stop to the site every day carrying all my tools isn't helping any. I wish I had a truck… " Xander bit at his lip for a moment thensacrificed a portion of his pride on the altar of work ethic. "Spike? I really need a truck. Will you lend me the money? I can't get a loan from a bank, I don't have a credit record yet. And I'm going to lose my job if I don't get a truck. I can't keep taking the bus. I'll pay you back, I swear."

Spike picked at his lower lip for a moment. "No. I'm not going to lend you the money." Spike aborted Xander's stricken look. "Don't look at me like that. I'll co-sign for you. That's better than lending you the money. You'll start a credit record that way. Just don't fuck it up."

Xander blinked at Spike for a moment. "You'll cosign for me? Why? I meanthanks and all that, but I don't get it."

Spike just shrugged. "You're mine and I take care of what's mine. You need a truck, I'll see that you have one. But you need to do it for yourself. You'll need a good credit rating, no matter what. I want you to be able to take care of yourself if something happens to me. Not that I plan on anything happening, but it's Sunnyhell." Spike shrugged.

"Oh, I see, I think. But thanks again. I'll see what I can find when I feel better. I'm still really tired and sleepy. I think the medicine is messing with me. I'm starting to fall asleep again."Xander valiantly tried to keep his eyes open, but failed.

"That's ok, pet. We'll discuss it more when you're feeling better. Go back to sleep."

Xander mumbled something about 'boss' and 'me' that made Spike laugh and settled back into the bed.

While Xander was sleeping again, Spike went down to the barracks in the sub basement and had lunch. He sighed. The blood was good but he'd rather have it from the source. He took a moment to just lean against the wall and grumble. He'd heard about having a stable but he'd never considered it a good idea.Dru wouldn't let them live; she'd drain them to the dregs and then he'd have a newbie to deal with, again.

Timmins came to him and told him that Xander was awake again and asking for Willow. Spike pushed away from the wall and headed upstairs to deal with another round of 'call Willow'. Spike wished he could bite the stupid bint, or the Watcher. He didn't expect anything from Buffy, she wasn't the nurturing type. And poor Glinda was sure to feel guilty when she found out that Xander was as sick as he was.

Spike entered the bedroom and sniffed quickly. He smelled sea and corruption. Xander was still very sick. He smelled of fever and sweat and tears. Spike wondered how much longer it would be before Xander began getting better.

He walked over to the bed and poked him gently.

"Oi! You awake? Come on now, open those baby blues."

Xander stuck his head out from under the covers and blinked away tears. "My eyes are brown. Where's Wills? You didn't even call her, did you? "

Spike contained his temper with some effort. "Harris, I may do a lot of things to you in the future that you may not like, but I won't lie to you. Not necessary, is it? I called Giles, Willow and Tara, and Buffy as well as Mrs. Rosenberg when you got sick. Giles went to Chicago, Red, Glinda, and the Slayer went to some Wicca retreat thing. And Joyce and Dawn are in soddin' France somewhere on a tour. Mrs. Rosenberg was the only one who offered any suggestions at all and she said it was flu. So I resent that."

Xander had to good grace to look ashamed. "Sorry…no, I'm not. I mean…that is…but Willow would come. She would. She's my best friend."

Spike set his hook. "Well, bloody great friend she is. You're dyin' on me and she's not answering messages. If you want, I'll call again and _you_ can leave a message. Maybe that'll get some results."

Spike took out his cell and dialed the number for Willow's and Tara's dorm room.

"Here, it's ringin'"

Xander took the phone and listened to it ring until the answering machine kicked in.

"This is Tara and Willow. We're not here, obviously. Leave a message and we'll be back to you. Blessed be."

Xander left a short message telling them that he was really sick and wanted Willow to come to see him as soon as she could. He handed the phone to Spike and rooted under the covers again. Spike thought he looked very much like a hedgehog.

After dialing both Buffy and Giles for Xander, and listening as the boy left messages, Spike pocketed his phone. He called Timmins and told him to bring Xander some food.

"Spike, I'm still sick. I'm not hungry. Just leave me alone." Xander tried to pull the covers completely over his head but Spike wouldn't let him.

"No, pet. I know you're still sick, but ya gotta eat somethin' or you won't get better. Timmins is a prime cook. He'll fix something to tempt you, you'll see."

Xander gave Spike a doubtful look but emerged a bit.

Timmins came in at Spike's call, carrying a tray covered with a large napkin. When he removed it Spike was disgusted to see that the fool had fixed chicken noodle soup and tapioca pudding. Neither of which Xander would eat. 'Not a picky eater, my arse.'

He started to say something nasty but Xander stopped him. "No, Spike, he means well." Xander turned to the vampiric valet and shook his head. "I can't eat either of those. They'll just make me puke. My Dad, he . . . um . . . threw chicken noodle soup up all over me once and . . ." Xander waved his hand suddenly. "Take it away, please. The smell is getting to me. And tapioca looks like frog eye balls. Yuck. Please?"

Timmins hurriedly removed the offending tray and started wracking his brain for something the boy would eat. The problem was that the healer had given him specific instructions on what the lad could have and what he couldn't. Most of the foods Xander seemed to exist on were on the forbidden list.

Spike followed the othervampire into the kitchen and watched as he shuffled through the papers in increasing dismay.

"What? Feed the boy."

"I'm sorry, Master. I'm not sure what to do. Here's the list of the foods the Young Master asks for. And _here's_ a list of the foods he's not supposed to eat. Empty calories. Here's a list of the foods the healer says Xander is supposed to eat. And _here's_ a list of the foods he doesn't like."

Spike took the lists from Timmins and read them quickly. He sighed and shook his head. "I see what you mean. Most of these lists are mutually exclusive . . . just figure out what on the good list is the least offensive for now. I'll see what I can do about convincing him to eat better. If nothing else works, I'll Compel him. Don't want to do that too much. Addle his brain, most like. Don't want a half wit on my hands, hadenough of that with Dru."

Timmins gave a short nod. "Exactly so, Sire. Not that Miss Drusilla wasn't a perfectly good sire as such things go, but . . . er . . .

Spike shrugged. "Dru was mad as a hatter. Made me, but she wasn't a sire. Angelus was my Sire. Not that he was much of a sire, either. He didn't care about the Line or the Order, even when the old Master wound up stuck under Sunnyhell. Never mind, that's water under the bridge. Figure out what to feed my boy."

Timmins went back to flipping through the lists and Spike went into the lounge to have a smoke. He was worried about Xander and setting up court; he'd only been to other vampiric courts a few times. Darla had hated them with a passion and Angelus hadn't cared one way or the other. Also, he remembered Giles's remarks about a dimensional portal opening somewhere in the sewers. Where to, or from, depending on how you looked at it. He didn't know. He'd have to find out.

Spike smoked three cigaretteswhile he settled in his mind how he was going to run his court then he went to check on Xander and Timmins. What he found didn't make him happy at all

Xander was huddled down in the covers and shaking his head. He was feverish again and feeling sweaty, cross and very uncooperative.

"Don't want it. Not gonna eat it. And I don't like tea. Go away. I want Willow, why hasn't Willow come? I called her myself." Catching sight of Spike, Xander appealed to him for . . . comfort? "Spike, where's Willow? She should have gotten my message by now. And make him take that away. I don't want it. I want chocolate. I want a milk shake. And . . . and . . . something yummy, like pizza. Not that stuff. It's . . . white . . . and lumpy. It looks like Snarfa demon snot. Not eatin' it."

As he had complained, Xander had withdrawn deeper into his covers, like a turtle into its shell.

Spike snarled, "Eat that. Snarfa demon snot has blue chunks in it." Then he took a good look at what was on the tray. It was cream of mushroom soup, perfectly innocuous in and of itself. But it wasn't that appetizing looking and Spike wasn't sure that Xander should have anything with milk in it if he had a fever. "Timmins, he's still got a hell of a fever. Should he have milk? I'd think it'd make him heave. And he can't have chocolate or a milk shake for the same reason. Bring him some beef broth. I'll see that he gets it down. Put it in a mug. Go."

Timmins escaped with a whole hide, for which his was grateful. He went back to the kitchen and made the broth.

Spike settled on the bed and hauled Xander out from under the covers enough that they were eye to eye. "Pet, I know you don't feel good so I'm takin' it easy on ya. But here's the ready. You watch your mouth. I'm settin' up a court and I can't afford the loss of status having a mouthy thrall will cause. The Order of Taraka doesn't take kindly to Masters of my stature messin' around. They've given me my marchin' papers and I'm not taking a chance of havin' them send someone here. Don't like the results of makin' the High Master pissed. Unpleasant at best, deadly at worst. And he doesn't just dust a bloke. Takes a while. And makes Angelus look like a choir boy. Enough of that. Pay attention."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Ok, ok. I'm listening. I feel like hell, but I'm listening."

"Ok. The Order wants the Hellmouth contained just as bad as the Watchers' Council does. Destroy the human race. That's rot. What'll we eat, if all the humans are gone? Plain stupid. But there you are; some people, demons included in that, don't have the brains god gave a goose. So I'm setting up a court to keep things under control. And you're my thrall, god help us both. So some things will be expected of you. I'll try to keep the demands to a minimum, but you'll cooperate when it's necessary, whether you like it or not. Hear me?"

Xander was eyeing Spike with dismay. "What demands? What have you gotten me into? And who? When? I'm not doing it." Xander got a stubborn look on his face, jaw set in mulish refusal.

"Don't have a choice. Remember what I said? I die, you die. I didn't want it this way, but we're stuck, so I intend to enjoy the fruits of Red's stupidity and the Watcher's laziness. You'll just have to suck it up and deal."

Xander looked like he was getting ready to argue, then he turned an amazing color, something near a Yarfa demon, only sweaty.

"I think I'm gonna hurl. Spike, get . . ." Spike scooped him up and demonstrated his demonic strength and speed. Xander had his head over the toilet before he could do more than heave once.

After vomiting once, Xander dry heaved for several seconds then settled back on his heels. "Sorry. Really. I don't understand this. My stomach is empty, so why am I sick? There's nothing there."

Spike examined the vomitus and snarled. "You're supposed to take those pills with some food. A slice of bread, at least. You know the healer said not on an empty stomach. You need the medicine . . . Xander, stop being stubborn. Eat what Timmins gives you. And you're not to stuff yourself with Twinkies, an' Ding Dongs, an' crap like that. You need veggies and greens. You're run down from too many years of bad diet."

Spike scooped Xander up in his arms and carried him back to bed.

Vignette

Tara giggled as Willow poked her in the ribs with one finger.

"Here, sweetie, I'll start sorting out the dirty stuff from the filthy stuff. You see if we have any messages.

Tara obediently went to the answering machine and poked tentatively at the play message button. The machine beeped and stated the date and time to be 'Sunday, January first, nineteen hundred.'

"Willow, the power went off. All our messages are gone."

Willow, involved in the laundry sorting, made light of it.

"Well, if it's really important, they'll call back. Don't worry about it."

Tara bit at her lip and wondered what important message they'd missed. She had a nasty feeling that something life changing was happening while they were playing.

Xander settled back in the bed and sighed. "I'm sorry. I forgot."

Spike waved a note pad under Xander's nose. "I wrote ya a bloody note, ya git. Read it."

"Can't. Your writing is awful. It's all spindly and crooked andstuff."

Spike snarled at Xander, slapped the note pad on the night stand and barked. "My writing is one of my better points. I was always told that it was exceptionally nice. Copperplate. I was a solicitor. Took the bar and everything. You're just too lazy to try. Get over it. Now, stop messing about. I've got to go to that bloody court and try to get a bunch of wild-eyed individualists to cooperate with me. I'm getting tired of guttin' stupid wankers."

Xander's eyes were drooping shut; he was exhausted from the whole throwing up thing and he wasn't hungry but he knew that Timmins was going to bring him something else to eat and he'd eat it. He didn't want Spike _ordering_ him to eat. "Well, think up something else. Go away, I'm tired. Gonna sleep now."

Spike shook his head. Xander had worn himself out in less that twenty minutes. He still smelled of infection and he wasn't keeping the antibiotics down because he wouldn't eat. Spike snarled in exasperation and went to reign over his minions.

Vignette

Giles dropped his suitcase by the door. He'd come in on the red eye from Chicago and he felt every bone in his body was dislocated.

He stabbed irritably at the answering machine as he poured himself a shot of scotch and dropped in an ice cube. Spike's voice nattered at him from the machine and then Xander came on. Something about being sick, but he knew the flu was going around and that Spike hadn't a clue about how to take care of a sick human. He vowed to call Willow, as soon as he had a few hours sleep. He still hadn't found any clear references to the portal that was supposed to open here and he was exhausted from his trip.

Giles poked at the stop button, never realizing that the machine was erasing the messages as they played.

Spike snarled his way through court. The demands of keeping his courtiers from rampaging all over Sunnydale frayed his nerves to rags. They wanted to take over the town and he had a hard time convincing them that wasn't such a good idea. He finally just snapped, "Fine. We'll take over the town, rage around tearing up everythingAll the humans will run like rabbits, the army will come in and wipe us all out, and there you'll be. As well as finally rubbing the general populace's noses in the fact that we really do exist. What'll that do? When humans realize that we're real they'll panic and start a purge, a genocidethat will wipe us all out. Nice.

"The persecution of innocent humans suspected of being demons would be interesting, but the rest of it?" Spike waggled his hand in front of his chest. "Not so much. Just obey me or I'll do you in. Idiots."

There was some grumbling from younger members of the court but older ones realized the truth of what he said and helped him convince the younger ones. It didn't hurt that he had four of the loudest gripers whipped to within an inch of their lives. His threats settled things down considerably.

After that he spent an hour settling arguments between minions, most of which were so petty he was ready to bite himself just to stay awake. He knew he needed lieutenants, but he hadn't found anyone he felt could be trusted yet.

After settling the last argument, which was over a radio, of all things, Spike headed back to check on Xander again. As he walked Spike fished in his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. He found the soppy watercolor he'd done of the garden in the Harris back yard. He thought for a few moments then called a big vampire over. He handed him the painting and told him what to do.

"You know anything about gardens at all?"

The vamp looked a little ashamedthen nodded. "I actually worked at Kew before I was turned. Miss it sometimes. I'll see what I can do. It might take a while, as I've been out of it for . . . near eighty years. Lighting . . . tubs. . . some kind of watering system . . ." The big vamp walked off mumbling to himself. Spike wondered how he'd gotten lucky twice in such a short length of time. Then he hoped he hadn't jinxed himself.

Xander settled himself in the middle of the bed and waited to see what Timmins would bring him next.

This time it was a bowl of beef broth thickened with barley, and a cup of funny smelling tea. Xander sniffed it suspiciously but it smelled of King's Foil and hops, so he drank it. Then he ate the broth. By the time Spike got back he was trying to keep his eyes open and failing.

Spike put one hand on Xander's forehead and grunted. His fever was still too high. He was going to have to take sterner measures. He called the healer, who reassured him that if the temp was less than 102 degrees Xander was still on the road to recovery. He recommended alcohol rubs and a cold compress. Spike snarled and hung up. Frankly, he'd been hoping for a 'magic pill' to get Xander back to health quickly.

He grumbled and growled around for a little then went to get alcohol and a compress. Xander wondered muzzily what had gotten 'up his duster' but couldn't bring himself to pay attention for more that a few seconds. He wondered vaguely when he was going to feel better. He was having more trouble than usual concentrating on things. The fever was making him drift in and out as it rose and fell. He knew that a high fever would leave him weak and confused. Xander snarled a little himself, he hated being sick and vulnerable.

"Spike, I feel a little better. Why don't you go torture a minion or something? Timmins will take care of me."

Spike snorted. "Your fever is still high, you didn't eat enough of that broth to keep a kitten alive, and if you think I'm lettin' Timmins touch what's mine, your fever is higher than I thought. Now roll over so I can start on your back. This alcohol rub will help bring down your fever."

Xander tried to resist but it felt so good to get out of the sweaty t-shirt that he let Spike do what he wanted. Besides, he really didn't want to be Compelled, it creeped him out. He wished Willow would call.

The alcohol rub felt good and Spike was surprisingly gentle.

Spike finished the rubdown when he realized that Xander was sound asleep again. He supposed that was good. Sleep was healing after all. He capped the bottle of alcohol and gathered up the towel and compress. He turned to find Timmins standing right beside him. Spike started then snarled. He was not fond of being startled.

"What the hell do you want?"

Timmins bowed and kept his head down humbly. "I'm sorry, Master. But I think I've finally figured out what Young Master Xander will eat. All we have to do is avoid anything 'squishy' or a certain shade of green. He'll eat almost anything that doesn't look moldy, or feel like it might be rotten.

"Don't worry. I'll make it work. If all else fails, you can just order him to eat."

Spike nodded, but then said, "I'd rather not. I don't want a submissive pet. One of the things I've always respected about the whelp is his heart. He's stubborn as a mule but, once earned, his loyalty is unswerving. Wantthat for myself, I do. An' I'm gonna have it."

Timmins shuddered slightly. When a Master Vampire used that tone of voice his wishes were engraved in stone. He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Xander as he went back to the kitchen to try to fix something that Xander would eat that wouldn't over stress his stomach.

He decided on a thick soup, fresh baked bread and more herbal tea. The soup would keep until Xander woke again.

Spike eyed the soup for a few seconds then asked Timmins when he was going to try to feed Xander again.

"Not until he wakes. I woke him to eat. I think that made him even more uncooperative than just being sick did. I'll wait this time and see if you have better luck than I."

Spike remembered that Timmins said he should take care of Xander himself and rumbled his annoyance. Timmins stood up to him remarking, "You want his loyalty, you have to earn it."

Spike nodded. "I know that, ya git. I just seem to be running short of me. I'm going to appoint a lieutenant to take care of the minor arguments. I'm not having a bunch of newbies and fledges killin' each other over radios and other such shite. I'm keeping an old-fashioned court. No one does anything without my permission. Whippin's and what all should convince all but the diehards that I mean business. Them? I'll stake. What do you think?" Spike's tone of voice led Timmins to believe that the question was more rhetorical than anything else, but he answered anyway.

"I think that you'll keep them on the straight and narrow. If they get too far out of hand, a good flogging will convince them to fall back in line. I also think that you are right. There's too much going on in the Hellmouth for people not to notice, sooner or later. And it's much later than I like. We're heading for a fall rather quickly. The Order of Taraka has been trying to get this town under control for quite a while. Now that the Mayor is out of the picture things are descending into chaos and the Initiative isn't helping any. They've run a lot of the more responsible demon tribes right out of town. Their controlling influence is fading rapidly."

Spike made a face. He was expected to keep the Hellmouth from enticing demons into committing truly attention-gathering atrocities. Things he would have enjoyed doing just a few months ago, now he was supposed to keep demons from being demons? He sighed.

"I know and I don't have the status I need yet. I'm havin' trouble getting some of the younger vamps to listen to me. I'm Master here and I'm going to prove it. But it's a pain. Tell me when Xander wakes. I'm goin' into my office and get some work done."

Spike stalked off, grumbling about paper work and pens. It seemed he hated ball point pens.

Xander woke for the third time that day and realized that he didn't feel quite so bad. He still had a fever, but it had broken again and now was mild enough to be annoying, instead of life threatening. His clothing was sweat soaked and sticking to him. The bed clothing was clammy as well.

He crawled out of bed and started to pull the damp, clinging t-shirt off, but nearly strangled himself when Spike barked at him. The sharp voice right behind him made him jump that hard.

"What the hell do ya think you're doing?"

Xander yelped then whirled half way around. He didn't make it quite all the way, as he got his feet tangled in the sheets, falling off the edge of the bed.

"Dammit, Spike. Scare the life out of me, why don't you? Make a damn noise, ok?"

Spike caught Xander by the arm before he could crack his head on the night stand and steadied him until he got his feet under himself.

"Better, pet?" Spike smirked at Xander. "Get back in that bed before you have a relapse."

Xander enumerated his grievances while he pulled his shirt off instead. "I'm sweaty. The sheets are wet. I stink. I'm hungry, but nothing tastes good. And I feel like I got run over by a cement truck. All weak and trembly. It's your fault."

"An' how do you figure that?" Spike snarled indignantly.

"Dunno. But it's got to be your fault."

Spike just disentangled the sheets, pulled the sticking shirt off Xander's shoulders and called Timmins.

Timmins showed up with the tray he'd been standing in the hall with. Spike nodded to the bed.

"Change that while I get this down him. And find him some dry jammies."

Xander couldn't help snickering at hearing Spike refer to 'jammies'

Spike glanced at him in irritation. "What?"

"Jammies?"

"Well, what the hell else would you call them?"

Xander frowned for a second then, deciding that Spike was serious, shrugged the best he could with Spike pulling his bottoms down.

"Um. . . PJ's? Pajamas. Or . . . hey! No . . . no stripping of the Xanman. No .. . Spike. Stop."

Spike ripped the old boxers off Xander without a qualm. "Don't tell me no."

Xander's face flamed bright red. Spike gave him a quick once over. "You're too bloody thin, Xander. Eat." Xander started to say something but Spike cut him off. "I'll make you if you don't do it on your own. If you don't take proper care of yourself, I'm gonna smack your ass red. Put these on." Spike tossed the pyjama bottoms Timmins handed him againstXander's chest.

Xander got the bottoms on and started to say something, but Spike forestalled him by handing him the cup of tea with the command, "Drink." But Spike was careful not to use his master's voice; he wasn't going to compel Xander unless it was truly necessary.

Xander took the cup and sniffed. It was a rather innocuous blend of herbs so Xander drank some then snooped the tray to see what there was to eat. Timmins finished with the bed just as Spike was reaching for an already staggering Xander.

"What's the matter with me? I feellike shit still. And I'm weak. Really weak. . . ." Xander let Timmins take the mug from his hand then groped behind him for something to sit on. Spike scooped him up and deposited him back in the bed with a muttered, 'stupid git'.

Timmins helped Xander get settled again then put the tray on his lap. Xander started to refuse the food but a snarl from Spike reminded him that he was supposed to eat and get better.

Why Spike was so worried about his health escaped Xander completely, but Spike seemed determined and Xander felt ill enough that it wasn't worth the battle. He ate what was on the tray then started to nod off again. He wondered if he was ever going to wake up and get back to living.

Spike, meanwhile, had called the healer again and found out that even though the IV had been removed Xander was still very sick. He had listened while Spike described his condition and then told Spike that Xander probably still had a fairly bad systemic infection. He told Spike that he wanted to see Xander again, so he would be there late that evening. Spike closed his phone and told Xander what the healer had said.

"Systemic infection? What's that? Is that why I feel so crappy? I want . . ."

Spike held up his hand and snarled, "Willow, I know. I know. I've called her and left a message. I called the Watcher and left several messages there. I even called Joyce's v-mail. No go. She and Dawn are going to be in Europe for the next month. Her service isn't even recording. Let it go. I'm gonna take good care of you. You're mine and I take care of what's mine. And so will you. I won't have you abusing yourself. Eat good foods. Take your medicine. And there won't be any trouble. But if I catch you sneaking food that isn't on your diet or spitting out your medicine. . . you won't like what happens. Understand?"

Spike gave Xander a fierce look to which Xander responded with a wide eyed hesitant nod. He wasn't sure what to think, or feel, or do. So he did what was best, he settled down to sleep some more. But his heart was breaking in pieces. He'd called and called, as had Spike. His friends didn't seem to care one bit what had happened to him.

He understood that they were on a different track from his now. They were all in college or, in the case of Giles had different objectives, but he couldn't help but think that at least they could check up on him. Especially since he'd left messages for them that he was sick.

Spike couldn't believe his good luck and Xander's ill luck. He'd thought that he was going to have more of a battle to separate Xander from the Scoobies, but they were doing a fine job on their own. He was also furious. Xander was fiercely loyal, loving and so needy. That loyalty and need were being abused to their ultimate limit. Spike couldn't help but feelbad for Xander even while he reveled in their stupidity.

He waited while Timmins came into the kitchen with the tray. Timmins seemed pleased with what Xander had eaten so Spike let it go. He privately thought that Xander should have eaten at least twice what he had. He remembered Xander's appetite for pizza clearly. For pizza and hamburgers and fries and donuts and . . . Spike's stomach turned. The boy wouldn't know a balanced meal if it bit him. Spike realized that Xander had probably been feeding himself since he was eight or thereabouts. No wonder he had no idea of proper nutrition.

When the healer arrived he was carrying his divining tools in a small duffel. He'd brought several things he'd never brought before. Spike woke Xander and got him sitting up in the bed so the healer could examine him. This was the first time Xander was really aware of what was going on and he wasn't best pleased.

"Why don't you call a real doctor? I don't like magic. I don't want him poking at me. And I'm hungry again. I want . . ."

Spike snarled, "Shut up. You're going to let the healer go over you. If you want a 'real' doctor you can just forget it. And don't speak to me like that. You'll show respect if I have to beat it into you." Spike blinked, startled, as Xander seemed to shrink into himself, then he remembered. "Dammit. Just let the damn healer look at you."

The healer wisely kept his mouth shut and just took something out of his bag and looked at Xander through it. He examined Xander from head to toe then grumbled. He stuffed his magical 'whatcha-ma-call-it' back into his bag and drew out a wand. He made a few magical passes and mumbled something. The wand glowed a rather nasty shade of yellow for a moment.

"Well, his whole system is messed up. His diet hasn't done his immune system any good at all. He'll heal but it's going to be slower than I like. At least a week. I'd like to speak to you outside if possible."

Spike pulled a cigaretteout of his pocket and lit it as they left the room.Xander started to protest but decided against it.

"Well?"

Josiah shrugged. "He's just run down. I've already said that. Keep him on the antibiotics. Make him rest, but he also needs some activity every day. Light exercise. And good food. No Twinkies, Ding Dongs, that sort of thing. Empty calories aren't going to do him any good. Plenty of veggies, fruit. I gave Timmins the lists. And if you want to keep your pet, remember that humans can't take the kind of abuse a vampire or demon can."

Spike snorted. "You'll never believe the kind of abuse he's already survived." Spike's eyes sparkled golden. "I got it under control. I hope. You never know with the whelp." Spike ushered the healer to the door, shook hands and thanked him for coming.

Spike returned to Xander's room to be met with a pair of worried brown eyes.

"Would you really?"

"Really what, pet?

"Beat me."

Spike settled on the foot of Xander's bed and shuffled through his options. Honesty seemed best. He knew Xander would know if he was lying or even leaving something out.

"Yeah. I will, if you force it." Spike rubbed his chin wearily. "I'm tryin' to set up a court. It's a mess around here and we're real close to breaking into the public eye. That's not good for anyone. Part of my mission . . . sound like a regular James Bond, I do . . . is to keep that from happening by keeping Sunnydale under control. But between being chipped, which every single idiot out there seems to know, and having a reputation for being as mad as Dru in my own way, I'm havin' problems. And you acting the fool won't help. Don't push things and we'll get along. But . . ." Spike eyed Xander in a speculative manner. "Look. I'll lay it all on the line. Havin' a human pet will add to my status quite a bit. I really need the boost an' I'm gonna take it. We talked about this a little before, but I'm not sure how much you remember."

Xander sighed. "I remember most of it. But I don't understand."

Spike shook his head. "Don't worry about it now. I'll tell you what you need to know when you need to know it. Until then, just relax. When you're well enough, you can go back to work. And, yeah, I don't intend to make you quit. I'll help you get a truck and stuff. Just enjoy life for a while."

Xander grumbled a little but gave up. No sense worrying until he had to. He just wished he could understand what Spike was up to. Something bad, he was sure, but he couldn't work up the energy to do anything about it. That was Buffy's job, as she was always telling him.

When Xander woke again Timmins presented him with his pills and a glass of water. Xander took them without protest. He had a lot to think about and found that he didn't want to go back to sleep just yet. He lay in the bed and thought instead.

All he could think was, he didn't understand why his friends didn't come to help him and Spike did, with every evidence that he intended to be here for the long haul. He wished for some of his things but figured most of his stuff was gone for good, between leaving it at home and in storage.

He worried at things until it was all he could do not to scream. He wished for something to do to take his mind off everything. He didn't feel like sleeping, finally.

Timmins came in with some more soup and a piece of bread. Xander eyed the tray with a jaundiced eye.

"Kinda thin pickings. I'm starting to get really hungry finally. I want something a little more substantial."

Timmins nodded, almost a bow. "Yes, Young Master. The next time I bring you something, I'll try to make it a little more filling. Why don't you just eat this for now? See how it sets in your stomach. It wouldn't do to have you getting sick again." Timmins put the tray on Xander's lap and noticed the sheets were rumpled. "Are you restless?" Xander nodded, his mouth full of bread. "I'll see if I can't get Master Spike to allow you to have a telly."

Xander swallowed quickly and Timmins realized his mistake one sentence too late. "Spike's not the boss of me. I don't care about some stupid spell. Willow will nullify it once she realizes what she's done. I want a tv. I'm bored. And more soup. This is good. But it could use some potatoes and some carrots. I like carrots. If they're fresh."

Timmins just sighed; he was going to have to watch himself carefully. Any hint that Xander had to get Master Spike's permission seemed to set the young master off.

Spike told Timmins when he asked that Xander could have anything he wanted in the way of entertainment as long as he stayed in the bed. Except for a walk up and down the hall twice a day, which he would see to himself.

For the rest of that day Spike switched between getting Xander to eat what he should and working on business in his office. He'd always known that a proper minion was humble, obedient and willing. He was now finding out that they had to be smart as well or he was doomed. He'd had to go back to the stables several times to find a proper secretary and some other office help.Timmins had been of great assistance in finding him proper staff. He still couldn't reconcile being'the Big Bad' with having office staff. But he needed them and as a master vampire he got what he wanted.

"Spike, I don't want to walk. I want to watch tv. And I want . . ."

Spike snarled. "Don't care what you want, do I? Get walking and you can go back to bed and watch telly to your heart's content. Argue with me one more time and you'll do without. Now walk."

Xander snarled. "You're not the boss of me. I'll do what I want." Xander got a good look at Spike's face and wisely decided he wanted to walk. "I'll make one more roundthen I'm going back to bed."

Spike decided to settle for what he could get. He wasn't going to wear Xander down by fighting with him at every turn. So they made one more trip to the end of the hall and back. Xander seemed to be getting stronger by the hour, which pleased Spike a great deal more than he thought it would.

Spike tucked Xander back in his bed and started to leave the room. Xander called him back then nestled in his pillows, picking at the cover.

"Well, what is it? Come on. If it's not unreasonable, I'll see you have it. Now spit it out. Got things to kill an' whatnot."

Xander mumbled "My stuff. In storage. I . . . never mind. I . . ."

Spike just pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of a pocket in the ever present duster and demanded the address of the storage facility. Xander told him and explained that the owner hated his dad and was storing it for spite. "But if you could offer him something, I'll pay you back. I don't take charity."

Spike nodded and left the room, headed for a good fight and a trip to the storage.

Spikes looked at the dinky sign and snorted. Sammy's Storage didn't look like much, but it was housed in an old warehouse. It was a lot larger than it looked as the building was sideways to the street.

The owner was seated behind the counter and when Spike asked for Xander's stuff, he gave him a look that made Spike stiffen.

"Not stealin' it. Boy's sick. Needs his things around him. I'm takin' care of him til he's better. Now cough up. Ok?"

Sammy eyed him for a moment more then surprised Spike. "Ok, Master Spike. But if this comes back to biteme in the ass I'm sending him to you. Come this way."

Spike tapped a cigarette out of the package and stuck it between his lips. He didn't light it, just let it dangle.

When he saw Xander's few belongings, he ground his teeth. Between what he already had and this little bit of stuff, Xander didn't own enough property to fill a quarter ton truck. Spike had more stuff when he lived in his crypt.

Sammy helped Spike take the few possessions out to his car so he'd only have to make one trip. Spike handed Sammy two hundred dollars which he tried to refuse.

"Take it. When Tony asks, tell him that Xander's mate paid the storage and gave you a tip. Don't tell Xander about itthough. You're a good friend to my boy. Thanks."

Sammy took the money with a mumbled 'thanks' and wondered how the hell Xander Harris had managed to fall into a honey pot like having a Master Vampire take an interest in him.

Xander was walking carefully up the hall when Spike came back with his things. He followed Spike into his rooms and settled into a chair.

Spike dumped his stuff on the floor, being careful not to break anything. Xander just eyed the things for a second, then realized what the small pile of boxes was.

"Hey. That's my stuff. The stuff that I had at Sammy's. He gave it to you? I didn't think he would."

Spike swaggered a little. "Master Vampire here. He gimme it. All I had to do was ask. Gave him a little dosh for courtesy's sake. I'll send Timmins in to help you put it all away. Ok? I got stuff to do."

Spike made his escape before either one of them could embarrass the other.

As Spike left, Timmins came in, so Xander contained himself and let Timmins do all the work. He knew that he didn't feel like doing it himself and he knew that if he tried, Timmins would tell Spike. He wasn't sure what Spike would do, but he was sure he didn't want to find out.

As Timmins picked up the box containing Xander's coin collection the box burst, scattering coins over the floor.

When Timmins saw the coins, he blinked. Some of them were gold or silver and all of them were either very collectable or extremely old. He decided that he needed to explain to Xander what he had.

"Excuse me, Young Master. I hope you won't take this amiss but . . . some of those coins are very old, gold and very collectable. Some of the others are also very valuable for one reason or another. You should have Master Spike lock them away until you can decide what you want done with them."

Xander looked up from where he was kneeling, gathering up the coins. "Well, they're mine. He can't have them. Help me pick them up and find me a different box to put them in. Ok?"

Timmins nodded and left the room. He found a box for Xander but he told Spike about the coins.

"Well, let him keep them for now. They're safe here. As safe as if they were in a bank. When he's better, I'll see about selling them and investing the money for him. He needs the investment worse than he needs a collection of anything. I just hope he isn't attached to them . . . dammit. He probably is. Oh, shite. I'll just have to feel him out."

Timmins bowed and headed back to Xander's quarters to give him the box.

Xander accepted the box and piled the coins in it then he simply shoved it under the bed. Timmins sighed. Such trust couldn't be abused.

Xander watched as Timmins unpacked all the boxes and found the trunk. He unpacked that too, inside the closet. He took every thing out of it and put the things on shelves, or hung them up. He admired the linen sheets and vowed to put them on Xander's bed as soon as he was well enough that he wouldn't have to take them right off again.

He also pulled the guitar case from the depths of the closet and started to put it where Xander could get to it more easily. Xander held out his hands and demanded the case, so Timmins handed it to him instead.

Xander took the case and put it on the floor. He started to bend down and open the case but Timmins beat him to it. Timmins opened the case and took the guitar out. He wiped it with the polishing cloth then handed it to Xander.

Xander took it and settled it on his lap. He strummed it carefully and found that Benjy had kept it in tune. He grumbled a little at the thought of Benjy handling Jesse's guitar. He picked out a cord then strummed a bit.

"Oi, whelp. I didn't know you played guitar. Probably some of that whining, dyin', drunk an' deevorced blues crap you like. So . . . play me something."

Xander made a face, then allowed, "No. Jesse was teaching me. He played classical guitar. He gave me this in his will. But the good classical one went to his uncle. I think I can remember some of Malaguania."

Xander played the first passage part way through, with some skill but a bunch of mistakes. Spike made a face, but Xander stood up for himself, telling Spike that he hadn't touched the guitar since his dad had hocked it almost eighteen months ago. After hearing that, Spike allowed that Xander wasn't bad.

"I wish I had the money to take lessons. I . . . Jesse said I was really good." Xander put the guitar back into its case and closed it. "After I get on my feet maybe I can get lessons." He stroked the case gently. "I'd really like that."

Spike shrugged. Xander noticed absently that he'd left off his duster and was dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt; his feet were bare. It looked odd.

"If you're really good, I might see what I can do about lessons. A reward for not being a pain in my arse."

Xander started to snark at Spike, then realized that it was a genuine offer. He accepted the olive branch with some skepticism.

"What do I have to be good at? Or . . . whatever. I'd like lessons. If you give them to me, I promise to practice like I'm supposed to. Unless I have to work overtime. I'm going back to work as soon as I can. I have to pay you back the loan for my tools and if you cosign for a loan for a truck I have to make payments for that and there's insurance." Xander sighed. "I think I have a headache now."

Spike smirked at Xander's bent head.

"Don't let it worry you yet, pet. I'm willin' to wait on the tool loan until you get a couple of checks under your belt. And I'll take you shopping for a truck as soon as you feel up to it. I'm going to call your boss in a while an' give him an update on you. Next time I call, you should speak to him too."

Xander nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I'll do that. . . " Xander crawled back into his bed and sighed. "I wish I could get better quicker. I feel rotten still. I don't feel like sleeping anymore, but I get tired so fast. And I'm restless. There's nothing on tv that I want to watch during the day. And after dark I fall asleep. And I can't pay attention to video games either, for the same reasons. Fuck."

Spike bit at his lip for a second, then made a decision.

"I know a way that you can get better in a third the time."

Xander's head popped up and he gave Spike a fierce glare. "What? Trust you to keep secrets like that. What is it?"

Spike glared right back. "My blood. Vampire blood, especially the blood of a master, is healing."

Xander blinked then shuddered. "Well, that answers the other question. I don't see Giles letting Buffy snack around on you. No matter what."

Spike snorted. "No, he'd let her die before he'd let her take a chance like that. Only there's no risk of any sort."

Xander eyed Spike carefully for a moment. "What do I do? It's gross to the max, but I want to be well. I need to get back to work . . . um . . . and does this count towards being 'good'?"

Spike snickered. "Yeah, pet, it does. Here." Spike bit into the vein in the joint of his thumb just under the ball. "Just a few drops is all it'll take. If the infection is deep seated, it might take more than one dose." Spike thrust his thumb at Xander as he spoke and nearly moaned as Xander took the wounded digit in his mouth and sucked. Spike mumbled, "Crikey!" and waited until Xander let go. "You should feel better soon."

Spike didn't look at Xander when he left the room. He leaned against the nearest wall and groaned. It had been incredibly erotic to feel Xander's warm mouth sucking on his cool flesh.

Xander watched Spike leave the room then stopped biting the inside of his cheek. It had been weird and really hot. The taste of Spike's blood on his tongue should have revolted him, instead he was hard. He addressed 'Little Xander' "You stupid head. You'll get into trouble and drag me in with you. That's Spike you're all hard for."

Xander settled deeper into his chair and reached for the other item he prized--Willow's old Apple laptop.

When Willow had gotten a new laptop, she'd given the old one to Xander, telling him that it would help him with his homework. It hadn't, but he'd kept it by hiding it from his father. He'd almost forgotten that it was over one of the floor joists. Now he opened the thing and tried the power button.

It actually worked. It booted and the screen lit up. The first thing he saw was a warning that the battery was at 14, so he rummaged around to see if he still had the cord. When he found it, he plugged it into the nearby outlet and settled to enjoy some fun. There were several games on the computer, mostly solitary, but there were also chess and checkers. He'd rather have video games but he wasn't up to keeping up with one just yet.

After playing cards for a while Xander got tired, but before he shut down he decided to just explore. If there were a lot of files he wouldn't use he could have Willow delete them to give him some more disk space. He wasn't too sure why but he knew that that was a good thing.

He poked around, figuratively speaking, for a little while. Then he stumbled across something he knew was good. It was a tutorial on how to use the computer. He decided to do the first lesson and keep at the rest until he knew what he was doing. Computer skills were a good thing, even in construction.

The lesson was easier than he thought it would be as the computer actually spoke to him and told him exactly what to do. Matching shapes and colors was one of his better skills and the letters didn't crawl around like they did on paper.

Before he finished the lesson, he noticed a file below the file he was using as a working file.

"Computer chips: Military issue. #MI3378561"


	6. Chapter 6

Ulterior Motives 6

Betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1

Xander sighed, Spike hadn't been joking when he'd said his blood would help him feel better. He did feel much better. He still felt crappy, but he didn't feel like he was going to fall apart any moment. And he could stay awake for more than fifteen minutes at a time now.

He wassettled into the bed, though he wasn't sleepy right now. Timmins had brought him his tv and he was watching old movies. Old sci-fi movies. Spike checked on him once then went to work in his office. Xander wondered what the hell a vampire did in an office.

Xander spent time working on his computer. He worked his way through all the lessons that evening and the next day. It wasn't that hard as the computer talked him through all the procedures and he could even get it to read back what he had written. Proofing was a bitch though.

He spent some of his time exploring the computer files. He nearly fell off the bed when he realized that all the books they'd scanned into the 'net were also in this computer. He realized that some of them had to be stored as images instead of documents. This was going to be nice. He liked to read cuneiform and kanji and Hiragana really made sense. And Katakana. Hieroglyphics were also easy.

Spike dropped in on Xander and waited impatiently while Xander shut down his computer.

"That's an old piece of crap. Why don't you get a new one?"

Xander shrugged."Because Willow gave it to me and I like it. It reads to me. I've finally figured out how to use it and I don't want to push my luck. Besides, what do you care?"

Spike shrugged back and yawned. "Don't really, just wondered. How you feelin'?"

"Good, actually. Not great,but lots better. Timmins keeps shoving those pills down me, and food. Good food. He made me my very own apple pie. With lots of cinnamon. I still get tired real quick, but I'm restless. Got up twice and Timmins practically carried me back to bed." Spike snorted at the mental image of Timmins carrying the much larger Xander. "Well, not funny, so not funny. How am I supposed to get my strength back if I don't get any exercise? I need to walk around a little and...stuff."

Spike pinned Xander with a stern glower and said flatly, "You stay in that bed for the next two days. Then, if you're good, I'll let you go to the Scooby meeting. After we go truck shopping, that is."

Xander stared at Spike for a moment then blurted. "You mean it? I mean, really? You're not just leading me on?"

Spike shook his head. "I really mean it. If you'll trouble to remember, I don't give my word easily or freely and I always keep it. PTB allowing."

Xander thought for a moment then allowed that he couldn't remember a time that Spike had given his word then broken it.

"Ok, point taken. I always wondered. You've said 'I will' and then not, but I don't remember a time when you said 'I swear' or 'I give my word' and then not."

Spike gave Xander an exasperated look, muttered 'dozy git' and got up. He turned to go but looked back and ordered, "Stay in that bed, or at least down. I don't want you doing much of anything until after the healer takes one last look at you. I won't have you overtaxing your system. Hear?"

Xander gave Spike his look back and nodded. "Think I like being sick? I'll do what I have to do."

Spike nodded curtly and left again. He'd heard some gossip about the incursion Giles was worried about. He was going to ask around about that and see if he couldn't pick up a few more minions. Some of the available fledges needed a good staking; others were really worth the trouble of finding and recruiting them. Spike was up for the play either way.

Xander was good all that night, even when Spike came in still stinking of demon ooze to give him another dose of Master's Blood. Xander couldn't help capitalizing it in his mind.

He watched as Spike bit into the vein in his thumb again and obediently opened his mouth when Spike presented him with the dripping digit. He sucked the blood off quickly, not wanting to have the same reaction as the last time. He didn't notice that Spike had to adjust something surreptitiously before he could stand.

Spike closed the door and leaned against the wall for a moment, fighting to quell the idiot in his pants. _'Don't go all gooey on me now, you git. If I jump the boy, I'll lose what I want the most. Be patient.' _The hole he punched in the wall gave the lie to his patience.

He didn't notice Xander adjusting himself.

Xander knew he was supposed to stay in bed, but his restlessness got the better of him. He remembered part of the Tai Chi that Jessie had been teaching him. And he'd watched Giles in his aborted efforts to teach Tai Chi to Buffy so he knew most of the form and, between that and what Jessie had taught him, he thought it would do him good. So he got up and started going through as much of the Short form as he could remember.

"Excuse me, sir. You've skipped part."

Xander nearly jumped out of his skin. "Wha'? Who? How?" Xander forced himself to calm down. The vampire wasn't going to do anything to him. Spike had been rather clear on what he would do to anyone who bothered him. Timmins had made sure that Xander knew about Spike's commands in his respect, but Xander still couldn't help jumping.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. Mister Timmins sent me to see if you wanted anything. He's busy in the lower levels. I was a martial arts instructor before I was turned." The vampire shuffled his feet for a moment, then looked at Xander assessingly. "I could teach you, if you like. I sort of miss it... Oh, and I don't kill. Just so you know."

Xander thought about it for a second. "Sure. I'd like that. I've been sick and I still feellike hell. I'm going to have to go back to work and I don't want to be weak when I do. I thought Tai Chi would be a good way to get back my strength without over taxing myself. Spike'll have fits if I have a relapse. Why he cares I don't know, but...so, teaching me Tai Chi? All good, so what do I do?"

The oriental vampire looked around. "First, we need a little more room. I'll move the furniture to the walls, that'll give us enough room. There's a nice gym on the next level down. After you feel better, I could begin instruction in other disciplines, if you'd like."

Xander jumped at the offer. "I like. I'm liking it a lot. Thanks." Xander didn't bother wondering why the vampire would offer to teach him. He figured he'd find out whose ass he was kissing sooner or later. For now, he'd just enjoy the opportunity to learn Tai Chi and any thing else the guy was willing to teach him.

When the vampire told Xander his name was Bruce, Xander made a rude noise. "Oh. Please. I suppose your last name is Li."

"No, actually it's Chen. One of my masters had a thing for Bruce Lee. Hence, Bruce. When I started training his people, I got no end of teasing. Until I proved I was good enough to make the teasing stop."

Xander sighed. "Ok. Sorry. Open mouth insert foot. My motto. Just forget I said anything."

Bruce just smiled. "I got over it. Now. First form. Ward off left."

Xander and Bruce spent the next hour working on Xander's forms. Xander proved to be a good student. He remembered what he was told quickly, only having to have a stance demonstrated once or twice. But when told to go left he'd stumble around the first time.

"Are you left handed?"

Xander shook his head. "No, I'm ambidextrous. Sort of. I...get confused... Dad says I'm too stupid to know left from right."

"That's not true. If you're ambidextrous, you've never settled on a dominant side. So you're always trying to decide which hand to use. Just decide on one, then we'll train for it. I'd suggest right as most people are right-handed, but if you decide on left that gives you an advantage as no one will expect it."

Xander gave his instructor a deer in the headlights sort of look then sighed. "It's that simple? So easy. Just make up my mind and that's it?"

"Yes. That's it. Right or left?"

Xander decided on right and Bruce tied a cord around his wrist. "There. Now all you have to remember is to lead with the hand with the cord. It'll take about two weeks to get used to itbutI think you'll find that you're a lot less awkward once you get trained to lead with one hand consistently."

Xander nodded. "I see. Well, can we work on that last form some more?"

Bruce studied Xander then started putting the furniture back. "No, you're starting to sweat too much. Better stop now even though you don't want to. Go take a bath and make sure to eat... Never mind. I'll get you a tray. Eat and drink everything on it. You'll feel better if you make sure you're hydrated. Go...bath...now."

Xander grumbled but went; he had to admit that once he stopped thinking about what he was doing he felt tired, and sweaty. As he lounged in the tub he realized that, now that he was out from under his Father's abusive influence, he was much more relaxed. It felt good. He still wondered exactly what Spike was up to, but he wasn't going to worry until there was reason.

Bruce tapped on the door and came in with a tray of food. Xander started to get out of the tub but Bruce just sat the tray on the wide side of the tub and told Xander to eat it all. Xander settled back with a plate of cob salad and started inhaling it.

"Hey, slow down. Taste it. No one is going to take it away from you."

Xander slowed down and, after chewing and swallowing his last bite carefully, he remarked. "It's nice to know that I can eat in peace. This is really good. And what is that stuff?"

Xander pointed to a dish with his chin.

"Flan. Kind of custard with caramelized sugar sauce. You'll like it. I better get going. If Master Spike thinks I'm shirking my duties, he'll have me flayed."

Xander mumbled around a mouthful of salad, "Just send him to me. I'll tell him you were working for me." At Bruce's skeptical look, Xander swallowed and shrugged, "What? You are."

Bruce just shrugged and left. Xander went back to eating his salad. He also ate the flan, and drank the juice and tea. After putting the tray on the floor, he heaved himself out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his hips. He took the tray and set it in the hall for someone, or thing, to take away.

After toweling off and donning a set of sweats, he stood in front of the mirror and examined his hair. It was even shaggier than usual so he decided he was going to have to cut it. Willow usually did the 'chop job', as he referred to it, but he was going to have to do it or it would be in his eyes.

He nearly cut his thumb when a voice behind him barked. "And just exactly what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Christ, Spike, make a noise, will ya? Nearly gave me a heart attack. And since you ask so nicely, I'm cutting my hair. It's in my eyes."

Spike took the scissors from Xander's hand and prodded him onto the toilet. He ran his fingers through Xander's hair, surprised to find that it was silky and slightly curly. He'd expected it to be wiry, or coarse.

"Gettin' kinda long there, innit? I'll cut the bangs but the back is messed up. I'd like it to be longer before I hack around on it." Spike put one hand on Xander's shoulder before he could jump up. "I'm not gonna give ya a hack job. I'm fair with clippers. Did Dru's hair for near a century, didn't I? Sit."

Xander sat back down and let Spike snip at his hair for several minutes. When he got up to look at the job, he was pleased to see that not only hadn't Spike hacked him up, he looked good.

"Good job. Thanks. Um...we going to the Scoobie meeting?"

Spike had to smile at Xander's hopeful look. He knew Xander was hurting from his friends'indifference. He was, he realized with a start, sorry that those hopes were soon to be crushed. With a little help.

"No, pet. We're going truck shopping. I called the healer and he said that you could go back to work...on Monday. So, you need a truck. If we find one in time, we'll drive it 'round for them to see. How's that sound?"

Xander looked so gobsmacked that Spike had to laugh. "Looks like you're speechless. Looks good on you. Come on, pet, change your clothes and wear those new boots."

"The one's with the engraved toe caps and heels? I like those. But you shouldn't have spent so much money on them. What if I ruin them?"

Spike snorted in derision. "Got dosh runnin' out my ears. Buy stuff if I wanna. If you ruin them, I'll buy you new ones. Get movin'"

Xander hurried to change his clothing, turning around to find Timmins standing right behind him with clothing already picked out. He forced himself not to jump.

Timmins presented the clothing to Spike for approval. He'd selected a pair of dark green jeans, a Black Watch plaid flannel shirt and the boots. The boots were something specialwestern style with a high flame stitched shaft, western heel, stirrup toe and fern engraved steel toe and heel caps. They were very nice, very expensive and Xander loved them. He allowed Timmins to help him with his cuffs because the valet seemed to need to.

"Well?" Xander held his arms away from his body and turned around for Spike to see.

"Bloody hell! Whelp, you clean up good. Come on. We need to get going if you want to make that blasted meeting."

Xander followed Spike out the door and into the underground garage attached to the residence. He eyed the Mercedes with delight, but before he could even ask Spike snarled, "Forget it, whelp. Not a chance in hell."

Xander snickered "How did you know what I was going to ask?"

"Look on your face. Drive your own wheels. Get in."

Xander settled into the passenger seat and leaned back to enjoy the ride. He really wanted to drive, but he could understand Spike's possessiveness; this car was more than just four wheels that go around. Some day he wanted a car like this.

Xander eyed the trucks on the used lot and shook his head. "Not a chance, no way. None of those are worth kicking the tires. Come on."

Spike silently agreed with Xander, so far all they'd seen was junk. Whoopties, not worth much and probably money pits. This was the second lot they'd stopped at and Spike was beginning to get impatient.

"Spike, we may not find anything tonight. I know exactly what I need and what I can afford in payments. It might take a while to find something."

Spike nodded. "Yeah, pet, I know. But...I know a guy. He's legit, nothing fishy or hot. But he's a demon."

"Don't care if he's Santa Claus. Does he have anything better than the junk we've been looking at?"

Spike fished a smoke out of his duster and lit up. "Yeah, he does. Good stuff, mostly repos, but they're in good shape so we'll probably have better luck. He'll give you a break on the interest too."

Xander started to refuse the favor, then decided he wouldn't. His pride had gotten him into enough messes that he decided he was going to be a little more careful, not be quite so prickly.

"Ok, thanks. Let's go. That salesman is eyeing me just a little too closely. Kinda like a starving dog eyes a pork chop."

Spike snickered at that image and led the way to the car.

The demon was a small gray human looking person with a bulbous nose and no chin to speak of. He cringed when he saw Spike and started wringing his hands.

Spike demanded to see the 'good' trucks and swaggered after the cringing being, dragging Xander by the wrist. Xander started to object then he saw the other inhabitants of the lot. He decided to keep his mouth shut; none of them looked particularly friendly.

Xander saw the truck of his dreams. It was clean, good finish; a half ton Chevy with nearly new tool chests on each side. Long bed, extended cab and totally out of his budget. He turned his attention to something nearer what he could afford. Spike didn't miss his longing look.

"Here, pet. This is nice. Clean, good condition. "Spike peered in the window. "Real low mileage. Take a look."

Xander resolutely headed for a serviceable quarter ton Toyota. It didn't have tool chests but he could get a drop in fairly cheap at Auto Zone. The paint was good and it didn't have any rust. He got a look at the odometer and sighed, high mileage. It would do. But he would have to put some of his bigger tools in the bed out in the open.

"Pet, you didn't even look."

Xander looked once. "I can't afford payments on that. I know I have a bonus coming but I want to put that in a 401. I could get hurt and not be able to work for quite a while. I'd rather have some back money. This one will do fine."

Spike blinked at Xander and spent a second readjusting his image of him, again. The boy was going to pass up a truck he really wanted and needed in order to put his bonus in a 401? The kid had more brains than guys twice his age.

"Well, let me see what I can do. If you take the loan for 24 months, might be I can manage for you. You keep looking at that other truck."

Xander nodded, keeping a bleak look on his face. "Ok. I can afford about three hundred, but I don't want to pay over too long. The interest will eat me up."

Spike didn't bother to reply, he just turned to the being waiting in the background. "If you let on for a second that anything is going on, I'll make your grandchildren regret it. You understand me?"

"Yes, Master Spike, I understand. How may I please you?"

"By dropping dead. But for now? That truck" Spike indicated the truck Xander wanted. "Twenty-four months. Three hundred a month. Doable or not?"

The being thought for a moment. "Yes, I can do that. I'm not making much profit. But for you, I'll do it. Bring the pet around and we'll sign papers."

Spike hissed softly. "If you so much as look like you're going to call him my pet, I'll tear your tongue out and feed it to you. He's my thrall and don't you forget it."

"Yes, Master. Certainly, Master. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, Master." The being stammered to silence as Spike glowered at him so fiercely he feared for his sanity.

"I'll cosign for him, but the truck is in his name and he's making the payments. Understand?"

"Yes, Master. If Master will come this way...and bring the...er..."

"Young Master. You git."

Theyended up in the office with a human man who offered Spike and Xander his hand telling them they could call him Jake.

Spike didn't mess around. He questioned the man closely about interest rates and payment schedules. Xander interjected a few questions of his own: he needed to know if he could suspend payment if he was out of work and how to pay for insurance. He found out that payments had to be made whether he was working or not and that he had to get his own insurance. He settled into his chair pulling at his lower lip.

Papers were drawn up and signed, cosigned, stamped and notarized. Xander accepted his copies and the keys. Spike was slightly disappointed in Xander's lack of reaction.

Xander opened the door of his new, to him, truck and settled in the driver's seat. Then he started to grin, a big goofy Xander grin.

"It's really mine. All mine. No one can take it away. Wow." Xander ran his hands over the dash board reverently. "Mine, mine, all mine. It's great. Thanks. Spike?I really mean that. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. My own real truck. With tool boxes and everything."

Xander just sat back and reveled in the wonder of his very own truck. "God, Spike, this is so cool I can't begin to explain. Just, wow."

Spike let Xander enjoy his truck for a few moments, then told him he'd meet him at 'the Bloody Watcher's' shop. Xander grimaced at that but agreed. He drove off the lot without wondering how Spike had managed to get _all _the paper work done in one place.

Spike met Xander just outside the door of the Magic Box. Xander stopped him with a quick touch on the arm.

"Thanks. I really appreciate you cosigning for me. And I don't want to know how you got the deal you did."

Spike smirked at Xander. "Master Vampire. The owner wanted to kiss ass. I didn't cheat him that much. He still made some profit."

Xander grinned. "All used car dealers are crooked as a dog's hind leg. And I'll be willing to bet more are demons than we realize."

Spike grunted, the glint in his eye more amused that anything else. "See, knew you're smarter than you let on. Come on, we better get in there."

Xander ran his hand through the hair on the back of his neck. "Yeah, but... I don't understand. I really need to...why?"

Spike waited for Xander to get a grip on his thoughts and when he realized that it wasn't going to happen he answered the questions he thought Xander should ask.

"Angel gave you to me. Sire's gift. And then Red thralled you to me. I take care of what's mine. And you're mine whether you like it or not. So I'll take care of you. I may hurt you from time to time. Hey, vampire here. I'll punish you if I have to. And you'll submit when I order you to. But I won't do you any harm. I'll protect you from yourself and anyone else who would do you harm. I'll make sure you can take care of yourself if something happens to me. Not that I'm plannin' on gettin' dusted anytime soon but you never know. You understand me?"

Xander gave Spike a skeptical look. "And you're doing all this because...?" Xander waved a hand in bafflement

"Ulterior motives. I keep tellin' ya, pet, I have ulterior motives." Spike pinned Xander with a stern, fierce look. "You're mine and don't you forget it. I take care of what's mine, even when they don't want it."

Xander shudderedSpike could be very scary, even chipped. "Yeah, but you just remember I'm not Drusilla. I don't need a baby sitter."

Spike eyed Xander for a moment then nodded. "Remember you said that, pet... Webetter get in there before they come looking for us. Move it."

Xander opened the door and unconsciously stepped back to let Spike enter first. Spike strutted into the Magic Box and headed straight for his usual place on the stairs. He didn't do research he just sat around and offered snark and answered direct questions.

Xander accepted the book that Giles handed him and sighed. "What are we looking for?"

Giles took off his glasses and polished them absently. "Anyreference to this month and an incursion. There's one coming. All my research says so, but I can't find any clear reference to what or where exactly. So you check that book and I'll have Willow try Bartholomie's Cronikels as soon as she gets here."

Xander tried to read the book and finally drew out a line minder he'd made out of a three by five index card. It helped a little, at least he wasn't skipping partsof lines. He struggled with the recalcitrant print for an hour.

Giles checked on each researcher in turn and when he saw Xander using his card he gently pulled it out of his hand and told him to put it away. Xander gave him a dirty look.

"Why? It helps me keep my line. It's not like it's a dirty picture or something."

Giles shook his head. "You're much too old to need such a thing anymore. You just need to keep your mind on what you're reading. Please continue."

Xander stuck his nose back in his book with some grumbling. Spike didn't notice, he was too busy being casual.

Buffy finally tossed her hair out of her face and sighed. "I'm not finding anything. Xander, get us some donuts will you?"

Xander looked at her for a second. "I don't think I can make it to the shop and back. I'm not feeling that much better."

Buffy blinked at him for a second then snipped, "Well, gee, get over yourself. You can't still have the flu. That only lasts about four days. It's been more than...what...a week?"

Xander turned slightly pink at the cheekbones and the tips of his ears. "It's been eight days. I was really sick. I got an infection in my leg and it turned septic. I nearly died. Spike called a healer to see to me when you all wouldn't answer him. Thanks, by the way."

Xander twitched away from Giles's reaching hand. "Sorry. What?"

Giles examined Xander for a moment then turned back to his book. "You don't look sick anymore. If you don't want to get donuts, just say so." Giles gave Xander a kindly look hoping to take the sting out of his next words. "You shouldn't dramatize yourself so much. It isn't attractive."

By now Spike was well aware of what was going on and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it did, with a decisive thump.

"Well, dramatic much. We got research to do and you're so selfish you won't even go for donuts. It's not like Spike will and, if you were so sick, who took care of you? Really." Buffy expressed her displeasure further by scooting down in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest.

Xander opened his mouth to say something, closed it, then snarled through clenched teeth. "Spike took care of me. He called a healer, spent hours trying to break my fever and in general taking better care of me than anyone ever has before. And I'm not reading this book any more. If you don't want me to use a line minder, forget it."

Xander started to say something else but sat down in his chair instead. Spike snorted softly and left his perch to go to Xander. He looked feverish again.

Giles made tutting sounds and announced. "That is quite enough. Xander, if you're through with your tantrum, please see if you can get hold of Willow. I want her to translate this cuneiform. And, Buffy, please don't slouch like that."

Tara, who'd sat silently through all this, finally spoke up. "She's in a Wicca meeting and won't be here. I told you that when I got here. Remember? And, I'm sorry, but she doesn't do cuneiform."

Giles rubbed his forehead in exasperation; the incursion was imminent and he couldn't find out anything useful. His temper was frayed to the limit and now this. "Well, if she hasn't been doing the translations, who has?"

Tara looked at Xander and then Spike.She just knew this was going to cause all kinds of trouble. "Xander."

Giles gave Tara a look of utter disbelief and Buffy started laughing. Xander waited for a moment then stood up, knocking over his chair.

"What? What's so funny? You think I'm...I'm like a third wheel? A Zeppo? The donut boy? I can't be smart, or do things? I'll...I'm...I saved my company several hundred thousand dollars. I can dry wall. I can do stuff. Oh, not great, save the world stuff. But I'm capable. I'm good for something."

At that Spike reached into his coat and produced a digital thermometer. He waited until Xander stopped ranting then touched it to his ear.

"Get off. What are you doing?"

"Takin' your temp. You're hot. In more ways than one."

Buffy went 'eeeeuuuww' rather too loudly.

"Excuse me. I'm hot. I'm extra hot. Girls look at me. I see them. It's not like..." Xander looked from Giles to Buffy to Tara. The only one of the three who didn't look amused was Tara, who looked worried.

Spike spoke sharply. "Xander, calm down. They're just gettin' you all upset. You've got a slight fever, I'm takin' you home. Gather up your stuff."

Giles took exception to Spike ordering Xander around and told him he didn't own him.

"Oh, but Watcher, I do. Red worked her mojo, you faffed around too long and now...he does belong to me. I gave you that spell she worked and asked you to look it over. Do you even remember? Probably, but never mind Spike, he's just a snarky mixer. So, Xanpet is my thrall, isn't that nice?" Spike gave them a syrupy smile and waited for the explosion. It didn't come.

Giles gave Spike a look of utter contempt. And Buffy just started filing her nails.

Xander waited too. Finally realizing that no one was going to say anything, Xander bit at his lip for a moment then just turned around and left. He slammed the door hard enough to make the little bell flip over its hookGiles 'titched' and went to fix it.

"Don't have anything to say? Not like you, Watcher. You always have something to say. What's up with you?"

Giles shook his head. "I've got so much on my mind just now that I don't have time for your imaginary thrall spells, or Xander's histrionics. There's a new Master in town and I can't for the life of me find out who it is. This incursion is prophesied to be massive and I can't find out anything about it. I don't have the time or energy for this. Now... if you really want to be helpful...take Xander home and see what you can find out about the new Master of Sunnydale."

Spike threw up his hands in disgust and then pointed at Giles. "You'll live to regret this. Check out that spell I gave you. Don't just glance over it and tell me it's a spell from Mim's. I already gave the whole thing to the Grand Master of the Order of Taraka and he's pissed. You need to get a handle on Red before she does anything really nasty. And...if you happen to think of it..." Spike shook his head and growled. "Bloody hell, forget it."

He heard Xander's new truck start then pull away from the curb. He hoped Xander didn't drive like an idiot. Shaking his head, he turned for the door then turned back to Giles. "As to the new Master of Sunnyhell? Why, that'd be me." He ignored Giles's startled look and followed Xander.

Xander pulled his truck into the underground garage and parked in an empty space. Spike pulled in right behind him.

The attendant came up to the door before Xander could get out of the truck. He recognized Xander immediately and opened the door for him. Then he went to open the door of Spike**'**s Mercedes for him.

Spike gathered Xander up with a look, Xander wearily followed him to the desk by the entrance to the residence.

"Gimme your keys, pet." Xander gasped softly and clenched the keys in his fist. "Easy, there. Not gonna take it from ya. Swear." Xander reluctantly handed over the keys and waited to see what would happen next.

Spike turned to the attendant and handed him the keys along with his own keys. "That truck belongs to Xander. No one else is to drive it. It's to be ready for him any time, day or night. Keep it up; gas, oil, whatever." The attendant gave him a skeptical look and started to say something. Spike cut him off. "You can start it and move it. No one drives it so much as around the block. Move it as necessary. That's all. Got me?"

The attendant nodded "Yes, Master Spike. I understand. I'd like to go over it...make sure it's in good condition, oil changed and all that."

Xander suddenly remembered the boy. "Hey! You're Arnold...something...you took auto shop with Oz last year. Damn."

Arnold nodded. "Yeah, that's me. And you're still a loser. How'd you get ..." The boy cut himself off at Spike's furious look

"Shut it. You say another word and I'll cut out your tongue, see how you do without it. Take care of that truck. Anything happens to it while it's in your hands and I'll take it out of your hide."

Arnold gulped and nodded, realizing that he'd overstepped his bounds quite a bit.

Xander just sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm really feeling bad. I think I've got a fever again. Can we just...go inside?"

Spike glanced at Xander. He really did look bad, pale and tired, with dark rings under his eyes. "Sure, pet. Let's go."

"Yeah, and stop callin' me pet. I'm not a pet."

Spike agreed with a slight smirk. "No, that's true. You're not a pet, you're a thrall. And don't you forget it."

Xander gave Spike a tired look. "Like you'll ever let me. I don't understand how Willow could do that to me. She promised me no more mojo and then... I turn around and let her, but she shouldn't have used the lip on me." Xander followed Spike into their quarters mumbling 'it's just not fair.'

Spike called Timmins, who came from the kitchen with tea and cookies. Xander started stripping off his clothing. He was tired, the jeans were tight and his boots were pinching his toes. Timmins took his things and tossed them into a hamper in the closet.

"You gave him the wrong socks, you stupid fuck. Those were too thick."

Spike was actually kneeling at Xander's feet, holding one of them in his hands. Xander looked like he was about to combust. "Spike! Stop that. They're dirty and stinky."

Spike snorted. "Not really. Just smell like you and new leather. You'll have a blister there, if we don't cool it off. Get that salve, Timmins, and fetch me a belt."

Timmins just nodded and hurried off. Xander gave Spike a blank look. Salve and a belt? **"**What's the belt for? I don't need a belt, I already have one."

Spike just shrugged. "I want it. Never you mind, just put that foot on this stool."

Spike shoved a stool under Xander's foot and crouched down again.

Timmins came back in the room and gave Spike the jar of salve then stood back to wait. Spike took the jar and spread the salve on Xander's toes. Xander watched in fascination as Spike stroked the salve on his foot with long, slender, elegant fingers. Xander realized that he was staring at Spike's hand like an idiot.

Spike couldn't believe his luck; Xander was staring at his hand like he'd never seen fingers before. Now was the time to start working some magic of his own.

"You strip and get on the bed. Cover up to your waist. I'll be back in a mo'... Timmins." Spike motioned to Timmins to follow him.

Spike rounded on the valet the moment he was sure Xander wouldn't hear. "What the hell were you thinking? Those socks were too thick. He's got a blister."

Timmins bowed his head in shame. "I'm so sorry, Master. I wouldn't have harmed him for the world. Please forgive me."

Spike eyed Timmins for several long seconds, then took the belt. "Bend over."

Timmins bent, shaking slightly. Spike gave him ten lashes over his bowed back.

"I know you didn't do it on purpose so your punishment is light. But you take care with him. He's human and we have to be careful with him. He's brave and tough. He's no complainer, so he won't tell us when he hurts. He's never to be left in pain by accident. Do you understand me?"

Timmins straightened up, grateful that Spike hadn't drawn blood. "Yes, Master. I understand completely. I'm really sorry...Master?"

Spike looked at Timmins and wondered what had him that worried. "You're forgiven. Get Xander some tea to help him sleep. He just dumped all his friends. I'm waitin' for the reaction so I want to get back to him."

Timmins caught his nerve with both hands and insisted. "Please, Master. What are you going to do when you have to take him to court?"

Spike made a face. "Compel him. Get that tea."

Xander realized that he felt numb. He wasn't sure why. Then he had a revelation. His so-called friends had actually snubbed him. He'd been sick and they'd thought he was slacking or something. And that remark from Giles had really hurt: dramatize himself? All he wanted to do was slug him.

He wiped at his cheekand found that tears were running down his face. He continued to wipe at them and wiped at them again and wondered if he would ever feel happy again.

Spike slipped back in the door and saw Xander wiping at his face. He pulled Xander to his feet and steered him to the big bed. After getting Xander onto his stomach, Spike settled across his thighs. Xander mumbled something about boots, and Spike snickered. "Took them off. Not a complete savage, ya know."

Spike drizzled warm oil onto Xander's back and started to massage. He rubbed Xander's shoulders, thumbing the knotted muscles until they relaxed. He worked his way down to Xander's waist slowly, taking care to find every knot and sore spot. When he reached the sheet low on Xander's hips, he pushed it out of his way and started on Xander's ass. He had to stop to adjust himself.

Xander was still, silent and sad. He couldn't quite stop crying,his tears just wouldn't dry. The massage felt good and he tried to calm down. He finally succeeded when Spike started massaging his foot.

"God, how can that feel so damn good?"

"All kinds of nerves in your feet. Acupressure really works. Relax."

"I'm trying. Really. But...damn...Spike."

Spike quickly scooted to the head of the bed and gathered Xander into his arms. "There, there, pet. They don't know what they've lost. You just let it all out. I'm not gonna make fun of you." Spike rubbed gentle circles on Xander's back and shoulders until he finally cried himself out and sagged against him

"Crap. I'm such a girl. Sorry about that. I just...they...shutting up now"

"Sit up. Get comfy." Xander settled against the head board beside Spike. "Good. Now, I want to know why you do that. Make fun, talk funny. Just doesn't make sense. You're smart, you should act it."

Xander sighed and rubbed the last of the tears off his face. "I guess, because it doesn't hurt quite as much if I really act the fool. I'm so stupid I'm always half a second away from falling on my face. So ..." Xander stopped talking as Spike put a finger on his mouth.

"I want you to stop it. I'm not going to have you clownin' around like a Pearly. At least they play good music. Oh, and as to music. You play that git box yet?"

Xander sighed and struggled to change mental directions. "No, I haven't really had time. I got sick so quick that I haven't had a chance. I'm going to get lessons as soon as I can afford them. Speaking of that, I need to sitdown and make a budget. And I'm so not good at that."

Spike refrained from remarking on the Scoobie talk. "I'll help you with that. It's not that hard, you just need a good example."

A knock on the door notified Spike that Timmins had brought the tea he'd requested. He called 'come in' and Timmins entered with the tea tray.

"I brought that herbal blend for Young Master Xander and some Darjeeling for you, Sire. I hope that is acceptable. And some biscuits."

Spike nodded at Timmins. "That's good. Set it there and go to bed."

Xander eyed the tray and grumbled. "That's just so...English."

"What is, pet?" Spike poured tea and handed Xander a cup.

"Well, that's a cookie. Not a biscuit. A biscuit is bread, sort of. And you don't have cookies at all."

Spike smiled at Xander. "See, that just proves that you Yanks are just plain odd. What you all call a biscuit is really a savory scone. Here, have a sweet." Spike smirked at Xander. "And finish that tea."

Xander rolled his eyes and accepted the offered item. "I feel sick, I'm bone tired and...well...damn. I never showed them my truck."

Spike felt bad for Xander. He'd been so happy with his truck and that bunch had spoiled it. "I bet the guys at work will be jealous as hell. You wait and see." Spike took the cup from Xander, who was rapidly drooping. "Scoot down and let me tuck you in. Sleep. You need to sleep. You'll be going back to work on Monday. Show your buddies at work that truck." Xander scooted and allowed himself to be tucked in. "There, as good as Mum used to do."

Xander mumbled, "She never tucked me in, Grammy did."

Spike refrained from comment and slipped out the door, switching off the light and telling Xander to get his rest.

Xander woke the next morning to Timmins with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Bruce and I had a little talk. You shouldn't have too much for breakfast before you work out. He wants to see you in the gym as soon as you've had your coffee."

Xander took the cup and sipped appreciatively. "Thanks, Timmins. This is really good. I'll drink it on the way down. Wouldn't do to keep my Sensei waiting. Could you...um ..."

Timmins stood calmly by the side of the bed. "I'll do whatever I can."

"Some of my clothes seem to be missing. Could you look for them?"

Timmins nodded. "Certainly, sir. If you could tell me what is missing."

Xander scrambled out of bed and reached for the gi Timmins was holding. "Most of my work clothes are gone. They were in the laundry basket. I went to get them to wash and they aren't there."

Timmins looked slightly offended. "Of course not. I washed them while you were sick. I'm your valet. It's my job to do your laundry, keep your quarters clean and do whatever I can to see to your comfort." Timmins held up his hand at Xander's confused expression. "And don't tell me you don't need a man. I'm not about to go to High Master Spike and tell him you don't want my services."

Xander shuddered. "Yeah. Don't think that would go over well at all. Ok. But... I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Timmins smiled at Xander and handed him a pair of flip-flops. "Not much. I would appreciate it if you wouldn't come in covered with Dora slime. It's very hard to get out of leather."

Xander laughed, waved and headed out the door, coffee in hand.

An hour later he was sweaty and frustrated. Bruce was nearly beside himself. Xander had done well learning the forms individually, but when they started to string them together he realized that Xander literally didn't seem to know left from right.

"Look, you're smart. I don't know what the problem is and I don't care. I'll teach you as I was taught. When I was in training, it was common for boys not to know. Wasn't something we learned on our own. So. Drill and drill and again.If you really want to learn."

Xander shrugged. "I want to learn. If it was good enough for you, I'm sure it's good enough for me...so, what do I do first?"

Bruce had Xander stand as close to one wall as he could comfortably get and started the drill.

"Stand in ward off right. Then turn your right foot to forty-five degrees out and ...step... ward off left... turn your foot...ward off right."

Bruce continued to direct Xander in his drill until he noticed that Xander was starting to zone. "No! Do _not_ drift off. You need to pay attention to each motion. You need to grind into your brain which is right and which is left. You can't 'go away'. Concentrate."

Xander nodded and waited until Bruce began the drill again. He worked on concentration and coordination. He wanted to get the form right and do well. Bruce wasn't laughing at his efforts, no matter now awkward they were. He praised even the slightest improvement.

"Very good. You're starting to sweat more than I like. Take a break, get a drink. Then I want you to work on following directions. You're fairly good at that, but you need to solidify some forms and doing them in random order will help. So, get your drink."

Xander got a drink and dumped half the bottle over his head. It made him feel a lot better. He thought about what Bruce had said to him about not knowing right from left. He'd always thought he didn't know because he was dumb. But Bruce said he had to be taught. It made him think.

"Sensei Bruce. I...I want you to train me like you were trained. It worked for you, it ought to work for me. Please."

Bruce looked at Xander for a moment then shook his head. "I was trained in the early 1700's when it wasn't that unusual for a master to beat his students for next to nothing. I'll train you the way I wish I had been trained. I may give you a smack or two with a cane from time to time. Mostly to gain your attention. But I have my own ideas of how to train a student. We'll have to see how good they are."

Xander shrugged; it was enough for him that Bruce was training him. He bowed and got a smack on the back of his head.

"Never take your eyes off your opponent or your teacher when you bow. Bowing that way makes it look like you don't respect me. Like you think I'm no threat to you. Understand?"

Xander rubbed the back of his head, grumbling. "You didn't have to smack me quite so hard. And yes, Sensei, I understand."

Bruce drilled Xander in various forms, each one aimed at teaching Xander only one thing. To react without thinking about it. He needed to recognize right from left instinctively, and Bruce was going to make sure he did.

Xander finally called a halt to the drill himself. "Sensei, I'm getting really tired. I think I better stop now."

"Fine. Good that you are willing to recognize your own limitations. I'm proud of you. You've done very well. We'll work again tomorrow. At that time I want to review everything you've learned up to this point. Then we'll drill some more." Bruce was surprised that Xander didn't groan or grumble. All he did was take another bottle of water and head for the door.

"Xander." Xander turned at Bruce's soft call. "Never leave the mat without saluting me."

Xander blinked then bowed, left fist in right palm at heart height, eyes on Bruce. The salute wasn't less dignified by the bottle clutched in Xander's left fist. Bruce bowed back and smiled.

Spike was on a rampage. He had a few precious moments when he wasn't expected to either referee stupid arguments or try to organize a bunch of idiots. It was like trying to herd cats. He wanted Xander but he couldn't find him.

He searched all over, finally finding him wandering in the bottom level.

"Xander! What the bloody hell are you doing down here? I've been looking for you."

Xander turned a tear streaked face to Spike.

"I did Tai Chi, Bruce says I'm improving so fast. But, I don't know right from left. I'm clumsy as hell and coordinated as a rooster in socks. I'm so stupid. I can't get anyone to respect me and...oh, hell...just go away, ok?"

Spike gathered Xander into his arms and held on, even though he resisted. "Calm down. I'm not lettin' go until you listen. Then you can go wherever you choose. Ok?" Spike nuzzled Xander's cheek and neck until he looked up at him.

"Ok. Just...shit!"

"You're not stupid. I think most of your problems are your Mum and Da never did things with you. Stuff normal parents do. So you didn't get essential early training. Sound like a regular toff, I do. But it's important. And you didn't get it. So...I'll help you make up for it. And who the hell is Bruce?"

Xander explained about Bruce and his Tai Chi training. "I really like it. Can I keep it up? I guess I should have asked you first. Please?"

Spike shrugged carelessly. "Maybe. Don't look like that. I want to interview this Bruce. If he's not good enough, I'll find someone who is. And a guitar teacher too, if you like."

Xander looked at Spike. "Why are you doing this? And don't say ulterior motives. It's just plain weird."

"Not really. See, this is the way it is. I'm the new Master of Sunnydale. I've got a reputation to create and uphold. If I don't, things are going to get really out of hand and you don't want to see that. Ever hear of Brovskya?"

Xander shook his head.

"In the late 1600's it was one of the largest cities in the area. Now it's nothing. The town got out of control, vampires and demons took it over. The Tzar had it razed to the ground, the Cossacks killed every living being in it and burned it. Sowed the soil with salt. The killing went on for nearly a week. If Sunnydale gets out of hand, things worse than that will happen."

Xander shuddered. If the Initiative convinced the President or whoever that vampires and demons really existed or the news media got hold of such a story, the panic would be – he didn't even want to think about it. The results would be disastrous for everyone. Thousands might die, and that was just the demons. Humanity would never recover.

"Ok, enough with the gloom and doom. Just tell the Xanman what you need."

"One, I need you to stop talking like an idiot. I notice that you really get silly sounding when you're scared. Two, I need you to take your proper place as my human thrall. Do you know how much having a Scooby as a thrall adds to my status? Probably not. I'll just tell you that you will do what I say in this. The difference in my status will save hundreds of lives. And don't make that face. It's good all 'round. Good for me, good for Sunnydale. Even good for you. Not that you'll like everything I ask of you, but think about it for a mo'."

Xander was thinking, hard. "Ok, I'll bite. What's in it for me?"

"I'll pamper you. Teach you or have you taught anything you want. You want books? I'll get them for you. You want lessons? I'll get you lessons. You want to work? I'll make sure you get any job you want."

Xander shook his head. "No, you won't. Lessons, yes. Books, great. But don't mess around with my job. That's mine to keep or lose on my own. Understand?"

Spike nodded. "I respect that. Ok. No messing with the job. Fine. Now, what's with the tears and no ducking the question."

Xander blushed so hard his face turned crimson. "I...Buffy...and...and...I don't understand why they treat me like that. What did I ever do to...not ...damn...you don't understand."

Spike put his arms around Xander and hugged him. "Yeah, pet. I do...ungrateful bunch of...you give and give and give and not one of them ever says thanks. Or gives anything back. You were right to be angry with them. Take my advice. Don't do as I did. Find your pride and stand up for yourself. I followed Dru from one end of Europe to the other. I doted on her and cosseted her. I starved so she could eat, I ran and hid and scrapped and scrabbled because she's a damned messy eater. And she leaves me for a...never mind. See, you're doing the same thing with them. They shit on you and you crawl back for more. You got better friends at the site. They been callin' for days, wantin' to see how you're doin'. I been tellin' them you're resting, but tomorrow you're on your own. So, dry your face and come on. Timmins wants you."

Xander sniffled, wiped his face on his sleeve and followed Spike up the stairs to their quarters.

Timmins was waiting and when they came in, he sniffed once, gave Spike a sharp look then led Xander to his closet.

"Here are your work clothes. And your work boots. When you come in from work, just dump everything in the bathroom hamper. I'll take it to wash. I'll wash as Ihave a full load of something. If you need it sooner, I'd appreciate enough warning to get it washed and dried. I do the same for Master Spike. If you have any questions or need anything, tell me."

Xander blinked for a moment. "I...hold on a moment. I'm just a construction worker."

Timmins shrugged elegantly. "And a Master Vampire's human thrall. Something that hasn't happened in over fifteen hundred years. The increase in Master Spike's status and prestige is enormous. You don't quite understand how important you are just yet. Your obedience to him has to be unflinching."

Xander was looking a little panicky by now. "I'm not...thrall...dammit!"

Spike took Xander by the arm and pulled him down onto the fainting couch at the foot of his bed.

"Listen. I won't ask you to do some of the things that most thralls are asked to do. But you will be asked to do some unpleasant things. Unlike Giles and his crew, I have complete confidence in you to be able to do things that are repugnant to you because they will help me to save lives. Lots of them. Not that I'm all that concerned with it, but I really don't want to wind up in a coffin for the next decade or so. So we do what we have to, you and I, to keep the Grand Master of the Order of Taraka from gutting you and sticking me in a grave. Right?"

Xander nodded in a rather dazed way. What the hell was Spike getting him into now? He realized too late that he'd said that out loud.

"We'll cover that as we go along. Just remember, I don't think you're stupid. I expect you to be able to carry your weight in this. Unlike the Scoobies, who seem to think you're nothing but an idiot."

"But, you hate me. You're always telling me I'm..." Spike clamped a hand over Xander's mouth.

"Don't say it. The reason I'm always pickin' at you is, I know you're better than you let on. The waste makes me crazy. So I snark at you, you snark at me. I was always hopin' to see the better part of you. I'm startin' to. So..." Spike glanced at his watch. "Shit. I got a damn meetin' in ten minutes. It's with the head of one of the local demon clans. I'm trying to create a council of the heads of the local demon tribes to try to keep the violence from sloppin' over into the streets. Fuck." Spike left at a fast walk, duster tails flapping.

Xander stared after him trying to absorb what he'd been told. He was important? Very weird.

July 12, 2006


	7. Chapter 7

Ulterior Motives 7

Betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1

Xander sat in his truck for a moment, reveling in the knowledge that he was in better shape than he'd been in when he got hurt. And he had a shiny new-to-him truck to show off.

A thump on the door made him jump.

"Hey, Harris. New truck? Neat. Great looking. How's it run?"

Xander got out, shutting the door behind him. "Not bad. Friend of mine said he'd give it a tune up this weekend. Look at the tool boxes. Aren't they great? Got a bunch of little cubbies, instead of one big trunk. The wires don't get tangled that way."

The man, Xander thought his name was Doug, grinned. "That is nice. But if you get a generator or a compressor there's no way to lock it up."

Xander smirked and pointed out the large doors closest to the cab. You could fit a good sized unit in either side.

Doug held up his hands in a surrender gesture. "Ok, wise guy. . . ." he grinned to take the sting out. "Got me. Hope you got a good deal. I know you think you're making good money, and you are. But if you don't save now, when the job is over you'll be in trouble. Take my advice and save at least a third of your checks."

Xander ducked his head slightly. "I got a bonus, but I put all of that in good investments. A friend of mine cosigned for me to get a low interest loan. That'll give me a credit rating. I don't have one yet. "

"That's good. Save all you can, while you can. And don't miss a payment. You'll screw up your credit rating faster that way than any other." Doug looked at his watch. "We better clock in. . . But, hey, nice truck, really."

Xander followed him to the clock, clocked in and headed for the site office. Why they didn't keep the time clock in the site office he couldn't figure.

Mr. Burk greeted him at the door. "Hi, Xander, you look good. First, you need to read this and sign. If you don't understand anything, take it home and get someone you trust to go over it. Then, you're on restricted, so no lifting, no exertion of any kind. I have the perfect job for you though. We're getting in a lot of materials and no one is actually checking in anything. This has central offices in a flap. So, you get to check in everything. I'll show you how to do it. It's really easy. All Telzon."

At Xander's confused expression, he grinned. "Bar codes. Every pallet, every bundle, everything, has a bar code on it. You scan the bar code, it compares the code to the invoice. After you're all done all you have to do is finalize the transaction. If there's any discrepancies, the machine will let you know. Then you call an accountant to come out and figure out what's going on. But it's a waste of resources to have a clerk out here. Most of them wouldn't know dry wall from brick wall they don't know how to work in a construction site. The last one broke his leg falling off the unloading platform.

"Well, here's the machine.The directions are right there. But all you have to do is punch the green button, scan something, punch the white button and keep doing that until you're done. Then you push the red button and the white button. If it beeps like an alarm clock, don't do anything, just bring it back here. Ok?"

Xander nodded; it seemed easy enough. But he knew he had to be careful. He could mess up just about anything if he didn't pay attention.

"Yeah, I think I got it. I got a walkie, soif I get in a mess I'll call you right away. I'm not one to try to figure out something by the monkey method. It doesn't work that well."

Mr. Burk gave Xander a blank look. "Monkey method?"

Xander grinned, "Yeah, just punch buttons until something happens. Usually something bad, in my case. So not monkeying around with it. I better get there.I see a truck already. Bye."

Xander headed out for the unloading area and a day of checking in inventory. Actually, it wasn't that bad. The truck drivers were mostly pretty good guys, or gals, and were glad to see that someone was there to check stuff in. That took the onus off them if something went missing.

Spike checked for Xander's truck one more time. He was sorely tempted to tell Xanderthat he couldn't work. But he knew that would not only ruin the boy but any chance of achieving his ends. So Spike waited. Not very patiently but he waited.

When Xander's truck eased into his parking spot, he was greeted by Spike sniffing his neck.

"Hey! Off! Get off. Not getting sniffed sweaty. What's up with that, by the way?"

Spike snorted. "Can tell if you over-did. And I'll sniff you any time I want. So, how'd the day go."

Xander manhandled his tool belt into the bed of his truck and tossed his hard hat after.

"Not bad. I checked in materials all day. So all I really did was zap stuff with a Telzon machine and tell someone else where to put it. I'm tired but mostly from walking and standing all day . . . hey, remind me to tell Timmins the lunch was good but I didn't get any Twinkies or Ho-Ho's."

Spike glanced back at Xander from the door. "And you won't. They're not on your diet until further notice. The healer gave Timmins a diet for you and you'll stick to it until your immune system gets stronger."

Xander pouted.He'd deny it with his last breath, but that's what he did.

"Did I get any calls?"

"No, and don't expect any. That bunch won't call. They'll all expect you to come crawling back. And you usually do. This time, I hope your pride will stiffen that noodle you call a backbone. The only one of that bunch that's worth biting is Glinda. She stood up for you. Heard her myself and, while we're on the subject, why did you let Giles think Red was doin' translations you were doing?"

Xander opened the fridge and grabbed a soda. Spike took it back and handed Xander a pint of milk instead. Xander started to say something then gave up when Spike let his eyes go a little yellow.

"Well, she was so happy when Giles praised her for translating something that I just kinda let it slide. Then . . . well . . . I'm just the Zeppo soeven if I did claim it no one would believe me. So . . . just, never mind. I suppose she'll have to 'fess up now."

Spike just made a rude noise and started peeling an orange. Xander watched him as he drank his milk. He wondered if he could get Timmins to sneak him some chocolate.

"Excuse me, Master Alexander."

Xander turned to see a vampire standing hunched into a near bow. "I hate to bother you but I understand you do construction work?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, what can I do for you? And call me . . ."

"A-HEM!" Xander jumped slightly at the sharp sound from Timmins. He glanced at the valet, who shook his head, lips pursed slightly. Xander shrugged.

"Anyway, what do you want?"

"Well. There are no walls in our . . . dormitories and it's causing some problems. We were wondering if you could help us build some. I know you're Master Spike's pet and shouldn't be messing with us but it really would be a help."

Xander considered for a moment, then glanced at Timmins. Timmins considered as well. He knew that the lack of privacy was causing trouble in the lower levels. Spike had said that Xander was to stay out of the lower areas, but added the caveat 'without escort'. He nodded to Xander.

"I'll assign an escort so you can see what needs to be done. Give me a materials list so I can order what you need. I don't see any reason you shouldn't do something for them,as long as you don't over do. Stay here while I find someone suitable to escort you."

Xander started to deny the need for an escort but decided to prove that he wasn't completely stupid.

"Ok, but snap it up. I'm tired and want a shower. I had some milk but that wasn't enough. I'm a growing boy, I need my snacks."

Timmins gave Xander an exasperated look then hurried off to get him an escort.

He returned with a big demon, some sort of Fyarl or something close. He grunted, growled then snarled. Xander was sure one of the growls meant 'gut.' He decided he really didn't want to know.

"He doesn't speak much English. Keep your commands limited to 'kill', 'crush', 'destroy'; things of that sort. And hope that no one puts a hand on you. They won't survive it."

Xander just nodded, eyed the demon for a second then issued his first commands as Spike's 'companion'.

"All right, then. Let's get going. You, lead." Xander pointed to the vampire. "You, follow." Xander pointed to the demon. "And no one start anything I have to run away from."

Xander examined the rooms with an eye to doing something down and dirty, construction wise. All that any of the vampires really needed was a place to sleep. Xander didn't believe the filth. The floors were covered with stuff and he was pretty sure he really didn't want to know what it was.

"Look. Housekeeping isn't doing their job. This place is a sewer."

His guide, whose name he didn't bother to remember, shrugged. "We're vampires; vampires don't clean."

"Yeah, they do . . ." Spike sauntered in, smoking one of his Turkish cigarettes. "Xanpet, what are you doing down here? You know . . . Oh, and who's this?"

Xander hurried into speech. "I know I'm not supposed to be down here without an escort. They're my escort. You need something done down here. If it stays this way much longer, we're going to have rats and roaches and who knows what else. And who decided that vampires don't clean? Nasty much?"

Spike noticed the return of the despised Scooby speak and smelled Xander's nervousness.

"Don't worry, pet. You got escort. So what's the what?"

Xander picked at his lip for a moment. "You need a complete clean up. Down to bare floor. Then I'll set studs and divide the room, huge thing by the way, into sides then into rooms. How big you want them? And you should make sure that people, um, vampires. . . What the hell, whoever they are, they need to clean up after themselves. No leaving junk, trash, so on all over the place. Ok?"

Spike nodded. Turning his head, he announced, "Timmins, see to it. No more leavin' messes about. I don't fancy rats. Got me?"

Timmins nodded, his respectful, "Yes, Master." making Spike nod sharply.

Spike reached over and touched Xander on the shoulder.Xander flinched away.

"Easy, pet. Not gonna hurt ya. Get used to me touchin' ya. Come on upstairs. Supper will be ready soon. Right, Timmins?"

Timmins made a squeaking noise. "Damn. Yes, Master Spike. But I have to run or it'll be overdone." Timmins hurried away.

Spike draped his arm over Xander's shoulders and pulled him along beside him. "Well, pet, seems you're going to be working more than I really like."

Xander shrugged Spike's arm offgrumbling. "Don't hang on me." Then he shrugged again. "I'm not going to do most of the work. I'll do the measuring up and set the base plates and start the studs, but you have minions for a good reason, don't you? I'll just see who did construction before they were turned and set them to the job . . . unless you have objections."

Spike put his arm back around Xander. "Bear with me, pet. And no objections at all. In fact, that's a good idea. I'm tired of livin' in a slum. Train me up some guys that can keep stuff fixed up. Good idea."

Xander let Spike's arm stay where it was. He knew from the grip on his shoulder that another attempt to rid himself of that arm wasn't going to go anywhere he wanted to.

Spike smirked to himself, another objective nearly accomplished.

Xander settled at the table and eyed the food on his plate with a small frown.

"What's this? It looks like a little bitty chicken. And . . . green stuff I don't recognize."

Timmins looked over his shoulder from where he was warming Spike some blood. "It's a Cornish game hen and spinach souffle. I'll have crepes for desert, with fresh peach pecan compote. You'll like that." Timmins turned to give Spike his blood.

Spike gave Xander a firm stare. "Eat it, pet. And don't make the mistake of thinkin' that lip will get you out of it. If you don't eat right, I'll make you. And no snackin' on Twinkies and stuff either. I'll know and I'll swat your ass for you. Clear?"

Xander glared at Spike then the hen. "Clear. And who died and made you the boss of me?"

Spike cleared his throat and gave Xander a significant look. "Who? Oh, yeah, that'd be your witchy best friend with the red hair and the bad mojo. You really need another demonstration? I'd think one humiliation would be enough. But so you don't forget,_ "eat that!_" Spike enforcedthe command with a little 'push' of Master's Voice.

Xander picked up his fork and started eating, giving Spike a dirty look.

"You didn't have to do that, you know. I'd have eaten it, really," Xander complained around a mouthful of spinach. "But this isn't so bad. I just . . . I'm eating, I'm eating already."

Spike smirked at Xander. "And don't talk with your mouth full. It's not polite."

Xander glared harder. But he continued to eat.He tried to stop, but he couldn't.

After he was finished eating, Xander stood up from the table and snarled. "So don't do that. I'll . . . you . . . just don't." He slammed out the kitchen door.

Timmins started to follow him but Spike stood too and sighed. "I'll go. He's going to have to do things more onerous than eat game hen. He'll just have to like it or lump it, as he'd say."

Spike followed Xander down to the gym where he found him changing into his gi. He gave Xander a practiced once over and frowned; he was still too thin.

Xander turned in the process of putting on his gi jacket and caught the frown. "What now? My gi doesn't suit you? Well, it's the uniform of a martial artist and even though Bruce says Tai Chi doesn't have belts, I like it. So . . ."

Spike shook his head. "You want to be gagged? I will if you don't watch it. If you were a minion, I'd cut your tongue out for talking to me like that. But since in your case it won't grow back, I'll refrain. You push me too far and you'll see how a thrall is really treated. Now, I was thinking that you're still way too thin. I think I'll see if the healer won't check you over again."

Xander's face darkened at Spike's threat, then turned puzzled. "What's the deal? You act like you really care. You don't, you can't. You're a vampire, evil, undead vampire. So what's up already?"

Spike decided it was time to let Xander in on part of what he wanted. He just hoped it didn't make Xander even more resistant to him.

"Ok, here's the deal. You're my thrall so we're stuck with each other for the rest of your life." Xander froze. "Yeah, forgot that, didn't ya? And I don't fancy livin' with someone who hates my guts. So, we get along. Or else."

Xander blinked, started to speak then shut up. "Yeah, I can make the 'or else' very unpleasant for you. Me, I like a little torture now and then but it tends to break humans and I don't fancy dealin' with another nutter. Dru was enough for one unlife. An' don't forget: If you die, I . . . well, go crazy or sommat. No one seems to know for sure. And do you really want the world dealin' with an insane Master Vampire?"

Xander surged into babble. "The chip. It'll keep you from doing anything really bad. All you can do is kill demons and . . . not good? What? What am I missing?"

Spike gave Xander a sly sideways look. "Well, for one thing, I don't like that much pain. But some do. What if I learn to like it? And I'm a master with minions, lots of them if I want to just pick them off the streets. Where do you think I got the ones I have now? And if I order them to, they'll do anything. I think I could eat someone if they were almost dead. And if I drop the wrong word in the right ears I can start an inter tribal war that'll bleed over into the human world. So make me happy, pet, cooperate. Ok?"

Xander gulped.He hadn't really thought of all the things Spike could do to make life on the Hellmouth miserable without actually killing anything. He was startled to realize that he didn't want that and he didn't really want to spend years or whatever in constant strife with Spike.

"Ok, Ok. I get the picture. What say we start all over again?"

Spike nodded. "Ok, pet. Here . . . hey, Xander. I like the gi. Nice look on you. But you're too thin. What say I talk to the healer about your diet?"

Xander took a deep breath. "Hey, Spike. Thanks, I like it. Bruce says Tai Chi doesn't have belts like karate and stuff, so no pretty colors for me. Am I too thin? I don't ever remember being too thin. Pop's always telling me I'm a pig. So . . . but I'd like desserts, real desserts with chocolate and stuff. So . . . talk to the healer, ok?"

Spike smiled at Xander. It was a poor and somewhat jumbled beginning but it was a beginning and beggars couldn't be choosers.

Spike followed Xander into the gym and watched carefully as Bruce started Xander on his exercises. Then he motioned him over for a little talk.

"Ok, what's going on? And what's your name?"

"Bruce Chen, Master. I'm teaching the young master Tai Chi. He was trying to do it in his rooms and I happened to see him. He was missing some of the forms and I told him so. He asked me to teach him. I was a teacher before I was turned, so . . . well, I miss it. And he's such a willing pupil. Please, I really want to continue teaching him."

Spike eyed the vampire closely for a moment then nodded. "Good. See that you do the best job you can. And no snacking."

Bruce gave Spike a look of such disgust that he shrugged. "Had to be said. Don't think you would. And what arts do you know?"

Bruce eyed Spike right back for a second then bowed slightly. "I know tai kwon do, tai chi, aikido, Wushu and I'm also a master of katana, bo staff, chain whip and anything thrown. I'll teach Master Xander whatever he's capable of learning."

Spike didn't question the vampire about whether he was telling the truth or not. One, he could tell if he was lying or not and two, very few minions had the nerve to lie to him.

"Bring him along as fast as he'll come. I want him able to take care of himself as fast as possible. Just don't let him hurt himself. And . . . I understand that some arts masters use corporal punishments. Be very careful. You can swat him if he needs it but you mark him and I'll cut you. Understand?"

Bruce nodded. "You're trusting me with a very precious thing. I won't let you down. Thank you, Master."

Bruce turned to go back to Xander, Spike watched him walk away with a small frown. He still didn't understand how everyone else could see in Xander what he could, but people who were supposed to be his friends couldn't. He shook his head again, shaking off the growing feeling that he was somehow missing something.

Xander worked out with a single-minded intensity that astonished Spike. He did each form over and over until it was exactly right. When Bruce demonstrated a new form for him, he watched every motion with a fixated intensity that was almost vampiric.

Then he repeated the new form until sweat was running down his back, making a wide stain on the gi jacket. Spike looked at the clock on the wall. They'd been at it for almost two hours. He was just getting ready to call a halt to their workout when Bruce did it for him.

"Ok, that's enough. You're sweating too much. Get a drink. Gatorade or juice. No soda, and especially none of that carburetor cleaner you call coffee. Get. And take a bath, not a shower."

Xander took the towel he was given and wiped his face and neck. "Aawww. And I was really hoping for a nice hot cup of coffee before I went down into the lower levels to measure up for the walls . . . . Oh, do you know any of the other vamps down there? I need a crew. I was hoping you might know of any construction workers."

Bruce shook his head. "Not a clue, I stay away from the lower minions. I'm a fledge so I don't mix with them. I was hoping . . . never mind. See if you can't find a vamp named Viktor. He's in charge of the minions and newbies, and I don't envy him one bit. You might want to consider looking only for older minions and fledges. They'll have more sense, more . . . brain power, if you will. Sorry."

Xander smiled at Bruce. "Well, that was some help, at least. Thanks. I know who to ask and what to ask for. More than I knew a second ago."

Bruce watched Xander as he walked away, swabbing at his chest with the towel. When Xander shucked the gi jacket, Bruce turned to Spike.

"He's still using up more calories than he should. You need to have him checked for . . . something. I'm not sure what. And . . . I'm sorry . . . I shouldn't be minding your business."

Spike stared absently after Xander. "Don't worry. If it's to do with Xander, I want to hear it. I think you're right. Something is definitely not right there. Wonder . . ." Spike shook off the worry. "I'll have the healer to him again. You see to it that he keeps workin' out. He's good. I don't know why he's such a klutz"

"Because he's never established a dominant hand. Where were his parents?"

"Drunk."

"Well, shit." Bruce turned to clean up the gym and Spike followed Xander.

He found him standing at the door to the lower levels, picking at his lip.

"Stop that. What's the problem?"

"You said not to go into the lower levels without escort. I don't have one and don't know how to get one."

Spike ran a hand over Xander's arm. "Don't worry about it, pet. I'll escort you this time. And I'll make sure someone's at the door for you when you come down. All you have to do is tell me, or Timmins, you need someone. Ok?"

Xander obviously didn't really like it, but he knew better than to argue. He did seem to be good at picking his fights. When he was allowed to. Spike added another thing to the list of things he'd thought he knew about Xander and didn't.

"Great. I need to get my tool belt, then we can go measure for stuff. And . . . book . . . and. . . mmmm . . . ." Spike couldn't help but grin as Xander mumbled off into silence. He did look so serious.

Xander fished around in his truck, finally pulling out a small tool belt and his hard hat. He checked the belt for the proper tools and then headed back down to the lower levels, Spike trailing behind with a rather bemused expression on his face. He'd never seen this Xander before.

Xander turned on all the lights on the level and just snarled back at the vamp who snarled at him. He shook his head as the true extent of the mess was revealed.

"You better get them on the stick quick. This is worse than I thought. I'm going to measure for two main halls crossing each other. With as many secondaries as it takes to divide the area into twice the width of the size of the rooms. How big do you want them? I need to know before I start measuring more than the main halls."

Spike gave it only a second's thought. "You're the construction man. I haven't got a clue. Why don't you measure the room first, then we'll take a gander. Yeah?"

Xander eyed the room. "Ok, that's a good idea. Each room should be at least 12x12.That gives room for a bed, chest of drawers and a chair of some sort. So . . . oh, and a dropped ceiling. That'll help keep the noise from coming up to the upper levels. You want carpet, or just the concrete floor? You could paint it."

Spike shook with silent laughter. "Carpet? Pet, they're newbies and minions. Carpet the fledges' rooms, maybe. But some of these guys are so low on the food chain they'll try to eat it. Do your measuring up and let's go. You're lookin' knackered."

Xander gave one end of the tape to Spike and told him to just put his foot on it. Then he started for the opposite wall. After writing down the numbers, he measured the other way and told Spike he'd have some figures for him in a couple of minutes.

Spike watched as Xander sketched in his book then wrote a string of figures down the side of the page. He ripped it off and handed it to Spike who handed it off to Timmins. Xander went back to his notebook and made another sketch.

After writing for a moment more, Xander stretched. "Man, I'm tired. I think I'll turn in early, if you don't mind. I'm about beat."

Spike stifled his disappointment. He'd been looking forward to a little time to get Xander use to him touching him. But if he was tired it'd wait. Then he had an idea, andwhy he hadn't thought of it before was beyond him.

"Ok, pet, come on. I'll put you in a bath and then I'll give you another nice massage."

Xander started to protest, but then sighed. "I'd like that. I hurt all over. Two weeks being sick then going back to work sucks big time."

Spike smirked at Xander's back. _"Score one"_

Spike set to the first step of seducing Xander. He drew a bath.

"Come on, pet. Let's get you all clean and comfy. Into the tub with you."

Xander started to protest then went silent as Spike just turned, dumped his duster on the floor and started stripping. He sauntered into the bathroom, unashamedly naked. Xander started stripping to the sound of running water.

Spike put soothing salts in the water and swished his hand in the water to mix them and test the temperature. Xander was surprised when Spike helped him into the tub.

"Ok, pet. I'm gonna get in behind you and wash your hair."

"So not! This tub isn't big enough and it's too full. We'll slop water all over. I'm not leaving that kind of mess for Timmins."

"Then lean back so I can get to you."

Xander sighed and obeyed. He wasn't too sure about this but he didn't want to live the rest of his live in constant conflict with Spike. He had decided to do his best to get along, as long as Spike did the same. So far Spike had been nicer to him than anyone he'd ever met. So he admitted to having ulterior motives. At least he was honest.

Spike reached over and picked up Xander's shampoo. One sniff told him that one of the irritating smells Xander oozed came from the cheap shampoo. Spike dumped it into the trash and yelled for Timmins.

Xander soaked while Spike smelled things, muttering direly about stinky cheap toiletries. Timmins finally entered, excusing himself by saying he'd been on the next floor down. Spike just snarled, "Get the boy some decent stuff. This all stinks. And get him some conditioner."

Timmins leaned over and sniffed Xander. "Vanilla, I think."

Spike just nodded and turned to Xander.

"You need to slide down, get your hair wet."

Xander slid down in the tub and dunked under, but when he started to come back up, his feet slipped on the sloping foot of the tub and he couldn't.

He flailed for a second then felt Spike's hands grappling with him. He was having difficulty getting a grip on his slippery human. Xander didn't struggle against him. Instead, realizing the problem, he tucked his arms against his torso.

Spike grabbed Xander under the arms and hauled him up out of the water.

"Here, pet. You ok? Didn't suck in any water, did you?"

Xander panted for a moment.It had been frightening, knowing that he had no purchase and couldn't get up by himself. He also hadn't had a decent breath.

"No, I'm ok. It was just really unnerving. I didn't have a breath. Thanks."

Spike fussed for a bit, wiping the soapy water out of Xander's face and checking that he hadn't bruised him.

Xander was touched against his will,no one else would have done more than tell him not to be such a klutz.

"What do you mean you didn't have a breath?"

"I _was_ on the swim team, and I didn't get there by my wit. I can hold my breath forever."

Spike snorted. "Sure, pet."

"Can so. I'll prove it. You just help me up when I squeeze your hand."

Spike couldn't believe this. Xander was offering to hold his hand. Even if it was going to be for two seconds, it was an accomplishment.

Xander hyper ventilated for six or seven breaths then slid back under the water.

Spike sat patiently for what seemed like forever, just like Xander had said. When he was beginning to wonder if he should pull Xander from the tub, Xander squeezed his hand. Spike pulled him up and grumbled. "Didn't tell me you're a bloody dolphin, pet. I was beginning to wonder."

Xander just grinned at him. "Told you. I really made it onto the swim team all by myself."

Spike just motioned for Xander to get out of the tub. He wondered for a moment why the boy didn't try to cover himself so he asked.

Xander shrugged. "We all got the same equipment. I've been in gym classes since junior high. The more you act body shy, the more they tease you. So, I got over it. Jesse . . . well, we did the usual experimenting." Xander looked sad for a moment then visibly pulled himself together. "Never mind. How's about that massage?"

Spike gathered up the things he'd need. A few towels, some oil, and a small candle-powered heater.

He smirked to himself. This was going to be interesting. Xander wasn't as repulsed by his touch as he let on. The boy was as tactile as Spike was himself. Now to take advantage of that.

Spike had to smile when he entered the bedroom.Xander was sprawled across the bed, waiting for him. He tossed a towel across Xander's butt and set up his warmer. He remembered doing this for Dru after some of her visions. He hoped that Xander was a little more grateful.

He started at the shoulders and worked for several minutes, rubbing out the kinks. Xander moaned softly in reaction. As Spike worked his way down Xander's back, he found things he hadn't noticed the first time he'd worked on Xander. There were suspicious dents in the muscles. Spike knew where they'd come from and gritted his teeth in fury.

"Hey, take it easy there. Human guy, not vamp."

Spike gentled his touch immediately. "Sorry. Need more oil."

Spike continued his massage, working his way from back to buttocks to thighs and calves. He had to resist the urge to touch Xander in a most intimate place. That would go over like a ton of bricks, as he well knew. _And listen to me, with the construction references._

"Roll over, pet.It's easier to do feet when you're on your back."

Xander grumbled softly but rolled over, then he realized what Spike had said. "Oh, you don't have to do that. I mean, feet. Yuck! And . . . so not wanting you to stop that."

Spike smirked. He knew reflexology and his hands were strong enough to work through the heavy calluses on Xander's feet. Xander moaned softly in pleasure.

"God, that feels so good. Oh, yeah."

Spike continued his massage for several minutes, alternating feet, until Xander was a puddle of, as he put it, 'Xander shaped goo' then he covered Xander and told him to go to sleep. Xander mumbled something and snuggled into his bed. Spike turned out the light and closed the door. Turning to go to his own quarters, Spike allowed himself a genuine smile.

Xander was a moving violation the next morning.He'd forgotten to turn on his alarm clock and Spike hadn't known to do it so Timmins had awakened Xander twenty minutes late. Xander was stuffing breakfast into his mouth so fast that Timmins, unaware of Xander's ability to swallow huge hunks of barely chewed food without choking, was alarmed.

"Young Master, careful, you'll choke."

"Wo' either. Gimmie biscuit."

Timmins translated this into, 'I won't either, give me a biscuit' and handed Xander the requested food. He watched in amazement as Xander stuffed scrambled eggs, bacon and cheese into the hot bread and started gobbling it down, chased with gulps of scalding hot coffee. He winced.

"Don't sweat it. He eats like that all the time. Xander, slow down. You have plenty of time to get to work. Remember, you have a truck now."

Xander paused for a second then smiled. "Yeah, I do, don't I? But . . . never mind, I'm done now. I'll go ahead and leave. It'll give me time to find some of the guys and show off my truck. Not truck proud, or anything. Nope, not me." Xander grinned at Timmins, took his lunch box and headed out the door.

Spike called after him. "And no snacking. You stuff yourself with Twinkies and Ho Ho's or anything else not on your diet and I'll smack your ass red."

Xander made a rude noise and hurried out the door. Spike gazed after him for a moment then shrugged. He just knew they were going to have a confrontation about Xander's snacking habits.

Xander arrived at work almost an hour early. He parked in a good shady spot and settled in for a wait. While he waited, he rummaged in his lunch box to find out what he had for lunch. He wasn't very pleased to see that it was chocolate free. There was a Spam sandwich, dry. Some carrot and celery sticks, and a granola bar, and an apple. He started planning who to trade what with. The Spam was ok, he thought, until he noticed that it wasn't really Spam, but some soy substitute. He sighed. This diet was killing him. Nothing in his lunch tasted good.

Xander grinned.Mr. Burk had pulled up beside him and was walking over. Xander couldn't understand why he was frowning slightly.

"Excuse me. Only . . . oh, Xander! Hi. New truck. Real nice. Thought you were some doofus from across the road. They're always trying to park here. Takes up all the places."

Xander opened the door and stepped out, moving out of the way so Mr. Burk could see inside his truck.

"I just got it. My room mate cosigned for me. I don't have any credit rating yet."

They spent a few minutes discussing the merits of the truck, then Mr. Burk excused himself saying he had to get to the trailer and set up the Telzon. Xander grimaced.

"When you get a release from your doctor, you can go back to your crew. Hang around here for a while. Most of the guys have been asking about you almost every day."

Xander did as suggested and hung around leaning on his truck. It didn't take more than five minutes for one of his crew mates to show up. He sauntered over eyeing Xander.

"Well, you don't look that bad. What the hell happened?"

Xander shrugged, looking embarrassed. "I cut my butt. Try to take care of a cut there. It got infected, my roomie kind of panicked when I passed out. The doctor gave me some medicine and it cleared up, but he won't give me a release until next week soI'm on limited until then. I'm checking in materials on the other side of the site."

"Shit. Tough luck. You ok now? I don't care about doctors. How you really feel?"

Xander frowned. "Stupid, Frank, really stupid. I'm really ok. But the doc says limited duties so that's what it is. I'm not arguing with them. I like my job."

While Frank and Xander were talking, several more men drove in and they all gathered around Xander and Frank. Frank handed on Xander's explanation of what had happened. After some groaning and grumbling by several of the men, they went on to admire and genially envy Xander his new truck. The only thing that distracted their attention from the comparison of Xander's truck to other desirable equipment was a supervisor calling them all to clock in 'before we fall a century behind deadline.'

The men all dutifully trooped to the time clock, several stopping to tell Xander not to be a stranger. Xander was touched. Nearly all the crew seemed to be interested in him, their questions about his health sincere and kindly. He smiled happily, clocked in and headed for his work station.

Xander checked materials in for half the morning. He worked out a way to do it more efficiently than before and was moving right along. Keeping up with the incoming trucks was easier if he checked stuff in as it was unloaded instead of waiting until it was piled haphazardly. Xander scanned the label, checked the Telzon then the materials, then scanned it again. "This isn't right. That's not grade A. What the heck?" Xander checked several more pallets of lumber. All the core stacks were grade B. Or worse.

Xander told the loader operator to stop unloading and make sure that all the lumber he'd taken off this truck stayed right where it was. He just shrugged and nodded. He didn't care what he did as long as they didn't take him off the clock.

Xander called Mr. Burk on his walkie and asked him to come see the lumber. When Mr. Burk saw what Xander was talking about, he swore. This lumber couldn't be used in their buildings; it wasn't up to code among other reasons.

"How much of that is low grade?"

Xander rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hard hat over his eyes. "About half of it. I . . . look, far be it from me to throw stones but . . . there's a bunch of the same stuff stacked over there." Xander waved a hand in the general direction of the back of the site. "And . . . I think I should go over and scan it. I think it mostly still has tags. I wonder who . . . bet . . . yeah . . . um . . see you."

Xander walked over to the area and started scanning the rejected materials. They all scanned to the same vendor. Xander sighed, pulled his walkie out of its holster and paged Mr. Burk. Mr. Burk told him that Mr. Lonergan would come to check things out.

Jake Lonergan swore softly as he examined Xander's evidence. There were at least a hundred and fifty pallets of lumber, grade B or lower, stacked around the area. They all came from Chambers Lumber and Hardware.

"Mr. Lonergan, I don't know exactly what you're going to do about this but . . . well, can I help somehow?"

Mr. Lonergan shook his head. "No. You've done plenty. This is very bad. Very bad. I'll take that Telzon back to bookkeeping. And you've got the rest of the day off. I don't want you talking about this to anyone. You understand?"

Xander nodded, he did understand. Chambers had been charging his company for Grade A and delivering Grade B. He wondered what other corners they'd been cutting. He started to mention this to Mr Lonergan but heard him mumble the same question into his walkie just as he started to speak.

"I want you off the site as soon as you can go. I'll call you tonight or early tomorrow. You'll have to speak to our legal representative and probably a higher up. Go home, drink a beer, take it easy." Xander sighed. He couldn't afford too many days off if he was to make his truck payment and give Spike some money for rent. "And don't look like that. You've got another bonus coming and you'll be paid for a full workday every day. You're on paid leave."

Xander grumbled, "Yeah, but . . . I like working. I . . . it's . . . ok, ok. I'm going." Xander grinned at Mr Lonergan's shooing motions.

He headed for his truck, waving at some of the guys as he went. One of the men, Gary something, came over to check up on him.

"Hey, Xander. What's up? You're leaving early, it's not even lunch time. Just now noon."

Xander looked sheepish, "Yeah, but I got overheated and Mr. Lonergan told me to leave. I'm really ok but he didn't like the way I look. Guess my ugly mug scared him."

Gary eyed Xander and allowed that he did look a little pale. "You take care of yourself and tell that roomie of yours the same. There's a bunch of guys that'll take it bad if he doesn't. Go home. I'll fill the guys in."

So Xander left as Gary went to tell his crew that he was still not quite up to a full day of work in the sun.

Spike glared around at his court. Every last one of the 'people' in it had done nothing but argue with him for the last four hours. He was getting ready to go round the bend. All he wanted was for the beings to cooperate with him. Itwasn't much to ask especially as he was going to gut someone soon if they didn't quit saying, 'But, Master.'

"Next git says 'But, Master' I'm guttin' 'em. I'm startin' to lose my temper."

A Tarkla demon stepped forward. "We heard about that. You got a chip in your head, says you can't do nothin' to anyone."

Spikes closed his eyes for a second, then opened them, reached out and shoved his hand into the demon's chest. He twisted it around for a moment, searching for something. The demon just stood there, a look of total disbelief on his face. Spike ripped out his heart and threw it in his face.

"Anyone else got somethin' stupid to say?" Spike glared around, eyes yellow and forehead starting to go bumpy. "Thought not." He gestured to two vampires standing to the side. "Clean up that mess." One started to drag the body away and the other brought a bowl of water for Spike to wash his hand. When he knelt at Spike's feet, he flicked several glances at Spike who raised a eyebrow at him.

"Master? I don't wish to have my heart torn out, but . . . you don't have control of your human so how do you hope to control a court?"

Spike snarled. "I got control of him. He does what I tell him to."

The demon gave him a skeptical look. "Yes, of course, Master. He works because you let him?"

Spike nodded. "Like him muscular and tan. And he's happy. Want him happy. Don't want a sulky thrall. And he's a thrall, not a pet. Don't need a damn pet. Useless, clinging, mewling prats. Xander is a man. A loving, warm hearted human. Want that for myself. So don't go gettin' any ideas. Got me?"

Spike's glare quashed any protests, but he knew he was going to have to demonstrate his mastery of Xander soon or there'd be all hell to pay, with Xander caught right in the middle. Spike didn't want to contemplate what might happen to Xander if he lost control of his court.

Xander drove around for a little while, thinking about what he'd found. He just knew it was the tip of a really big iceberg, not a good thing at all.

He spotted a quick stop and drove in to get a soda and some chips. He also got several packages of Ho-Ho's and Ding Dongs, a chocolate bar and a bag of Jelly Babies.

He stuffed his purchases into his lunch box and tossed it onto the seat beside him. When he got home, he was going to enjoy his snacks in peace. Or so he thought.

Instead of snacking, Xander wound up working. Timmins was as efficient as they come. He'd managed to get first quality materials delivered in twelve hours so Xander went down to the lower levels and started setting the base studs, the two-by-fours that were the bottom of the walls.

To set the studs onto the concrete he had to use a nail shooter powered by .22 blanks. He put on his head set and started to work. He was glad to see that someone really had measured out and chalk lined all the cubicles.

He couldn't believe the men that Spike had around. Some of the fledges were construction workers, as well as computer techs, all sorts of office personnel; all kinds of ex-people. He supposed that vampires didn't ask your profession before they bit. So he'd drawn a crude blueprint on a piece of notebook paper and discussed the design with Spike. He assumed that Timmins told someone to measure the whole room and draw out the reference marks. The halls were a little wider than he'd expected but it didn't make that much difference.

He worked for quite sometime setting the base plates, then he wondered why he was doing this instead of someone who'd slept all day. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand fell on his shoulder.

Xander turned, holding the stud setter with the nails pointed at whoever it was.

"Easy there, pet. Won't do you much good."

Xander snarled. "Oh, yeah? Slow you down enough that I can yell. Timmins is just over there."

And indeed Timmins was close. He was standing in the shadows on the other side of the huge room, fussing with some furniture.

"Oh, that's good. I catch you down here without an escort and you won't like what happens. I mean it." Spike gave Xander a yellow-eyed glare. "Now that the requisite threatenin' is done, what the hell are you doin'?"

Xander stuck his tongue out at Spike then replied. "I'm setting the base plates for the walls."

Spike just raised an eyebrow. "The who for the . . . excuse me?"

Xander pointed. "There. I have to nail those down to the floor, then I'll build the walls up. I'd really rather float the walls up after I put them together, but I can't lift them myself and nail them. I need about ten hands and arms fifteen feet long. So I'm going to have to do it the other way around. Big pain, but what can I do?"

Spike smirked at Xander then threw his head back and yelled. "Oi, any ofyou wankers want first pick, get over here now."

Several vampires and demons hurried over to Spike, fawning on him in a manner that Xander found revolting. Spikejust pointed to him and ordered. "He's boss. You do what he says. And don't mess up. I'm not in a particularly good mood tonight."

Spike touched Xander on the arm and led him a little aside. "Ok, pet. I'm sure you know what you're doin' an' all but I'd like a clue or two here. That explanation yesterday was kinda sketchy."

Xander rubbed his cheek in embarrassment. "Sorry. I just got all excited. I . . . ok, come over here and I'll try to explain what I'm doing."

Spike followed Xander to the half landing between this level and the next one up. He pointed out the barely visible chalk marks on the floor.

"I measured out and divided the room up into squares. Or someone did it. Anyway . . . each section is twenty-five feet square. Each square is divided into four rooms. Twelve feet square. If you think they need to be bigger tell me now or we'll have a hell of a mess. I didn't allow for bathrooms and such. There's showers and toilets at the end, like this was planned for a gym or something. So, what do you think?"

Spike was impressed and said so. He smiled at Xander and said, "You're smart. I keep tellin' ya so. See, I know more about you than you do. I like it. All the rooms are the same so there's no in-fighting about larger and smaller. And takin' advantage of facilities already provided is good. No sense wastin' dosh on minions if we don't have to."

Xander grinned at Spike. "There won't be any differences in the rooms to fight over. But you know people, they'll always find something. Probably be something stupid."

Spike shook his head and decided not to bother correcting Xander; most of his minions weren't people.

"You're right pet. Give your orders to the crew then come up to eat your dinner. I'm sure you're tired and want a shower and some food."

Xander settled his shoulders and followed Spike, mumbling, "Yeah, and some chocolate. Or . . ."

Spike turned and reminded Xander of his diet, finishing, "No chocolate. The healer hasn't seen you yet. I catch you stuffin' yourself with junk and I'll smack you good. Remember."

Xander rolled his eyes and grumbled, "So have to catch me first."

"Oi! I heard that."

And so did everyone on the demonic construction crew.


	8. Chapter 8

Ulterior Motives 8

betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1

Xander ate his dinner without tasting a thing. He was thinking furiously. He was off site till further notice. He wasn't worried about that as Mr. Lonergan had assured him he was being paid. But he was worried about the consequences of what he'd found. The construction in the lower levels didn't worry him. It was all straightforward and simple. He could do it all with two or three others, mostly to help with the heavy lifting.

He sighed softly. He was in deep shit and he knew it. Not thinking about the fraud at the site wasn't going to make it go away. He knew that some of the company's had knee breakers on the payroll, and he wasn't looking forward to what might happen when everyone found out he'd busted Chambers. Someone would tell someone else and they would tell someone. It would get back to Chambers. He wasn't looking forward to the results. _Man, I am soooo dead_

That was why they didn't want him at the site. Someone would find out that he'd peached on the company and then the company would send someone to 'talk' to him. Someone with big muscles and not much between the ears. He never thought of telling Spike about it. He never thought Spike would care.

Xander gathered up his dishes and started for the dishwasher. Timmins intercepted him with practiced ease. "Would you like something else?"

Xander absently shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm going to do some work on the dorms. I'll have another list of materials I need. Don't strain yourself, I won't need them for at least a week. And don't buy anything from Chambers. They'recrooked as a dog's hind leg."

Timmins filed this away in his memory. "Anything else?"

"Not really. After I'm done with the materials, I'm going to work on a scroll translation for a while. Tell Spike, will you?"

"Yes, Young Master. I'll bring you some coffee in about an hour, shall I?"

Xander nodded absently and left the kitchen for his office. Spike had given him his own when he found out that Xander tended to talk to himself when he was working.

Spike worked on paper work of his own for most of the afternoon. He was tired and cranky when he finished. Most of the demons he dealt with were nocturnal but some were diurnal so he was working what was essentially a split shift. He woke in time to see Xander off to work then went back to bed to sleep until late afternoon. He didn't need much sleep thankfully, but the strain of keeping everything together was starting to show. He needed to cement his power base soon.

He pulled out his cigarettesand realized that he only had a few left. "Timmins, I'm out of smokes and I'm out of patience. I'm goin' out to get smokes and clear my head."

Timmins stuck his head in the door of Spikes office. _Bloody hell! I have a bleedin' office._

"I have some cigarettes for you, if you want."

"Don't want 'em. Need out of here for a while. I'm goin' round the bend. Some of this stuff is . . . never mind. I just hate tryin' to translate legal terms from a demon language to English. Gives me a flamin' headache, it does." Spike picked up his duster, patted the pockets and headed for the door. "I'm off. Watch over Xander."

Timmins closed the door behind Spike and smiled. When Spike started speaking mockney he was really tired or pissed. Timmins wondered when he would give up and have Xander translate the offending document.

Spike wandered the streets for a while then dropped into a quick stop for some cigarettes. He bought a 40 ouncer as well. He knew very well that no cop was really fooled by the brown paper bag trick but it kept the commoners from staring.

He ambled down the street, smoking and window shopping, occasionally drinking from the bottle. He felt much better just getting out of the mansion. The pressure was getting to him. He hadn't had a court since Prague. Even then it had been different in deference to Drusilla's madness. He sighed softly then squared his shoulders. All he had to do was show his mastery. If it meant killing a few demons all the better. He did like a bit of violence.

Spike stopped at the Espresso Pump to get coffee. When he looked at the coffee makers, he realized that the beautiful brass machines were gone. In their place were modern heavy duty chrome and steel makers. Just as good, but nowhere nearas nice. He remembered that Xander had coveted one of the old ones, so he decided to ask what had happened to them.

The shop was really busy so he decided to go around to the back and see if he couldn't find out what had happened to them.

When he got to the back, he found a man sitting on the dumpster, dejectedly crumpling an empty cigarettepack.

"Smoke?" Spike offered his pack and lighter.

"Thanks." The man, who wore an Espresso Pump apron with a name tag that said, 'Frankie', along with a typical SoCal saying, took the pack and lighter with a smile.

"Bad night?" Spike hopped up to sit next to Frankie.

Frankie took a deep drag off the cigarette and grunted. "Might say that." Spike made an enquiring noise. "Boss got new makers. They're faster and more modern, but no one likes them. They been bitchin' all night. 'Ruined the atmosphere', 'coffee doesn't taste the same', bitch bitch bitch. Like it's my fault."

Spike shook his head. "Makes a bloke pissed off, don't it? All that bitchin' over a coffee pot. Don't make sense."

Frankie shook his head. "I liked the old ones better but the seals were worn out. So, instead of spending $75 dollars on new seals, the old fart spends a couple of thousand dollars on new, high capacity makers. They're not pots, by the way. Old guy's gettin' crazy in his old age."

Spike shrugged. "It's his shop, so what can you do? What'd he do with the old ones?"

"Just tossed 'em. If I could figure out how, I'd take one home with me. But the old geezer has his eye on me."

Spike gave the man a considering look. He wanted one of those makers.

Frankie spoke again. "Look, pal, if you want one, I'll tell you what I'll do. They're both right here in this dumpster. I'll distract shit for brains and you snitch both of them. I get off in half an hour. And I'm just getting my break, I might add. I'll meet you at the other end of the alley. You get one, I get the other. How's that sound?"

Spike thought for a minute. In the old days he'd just have bitten the bloke and taken what he wanted. Then he'd have had to leave town in a few days, leaving the maker behind. Now . . .

"Sure thing, mate. You do the bait and I'll nick the goods. See you in an hour or so." Frankie opened his mouth but Spike forestalled him. "You know damn good an' well the old goat will find some reason to squeeze a quarter hour free out of you." He hopped off the dumpster. "Well, get on with it."

Frankie went inside and shut the door. Spike waited for a few seconds. When he heard Frankie start complaining about getting his break so late, Spike opened the dumpster and pulled out the coffee makers. There were three of them and he dragged them all out. They were awkward to carry, not because they were heavy but because they were fairly large. Spike grinned, popped them into a nearby, brand new wheeled trash can, and slipped away.

He settled in an alcove at the end of the alley to examine his booty. He was impressed to see that they were Victoria Arduino Venus Bar III commercial machines. One of the best Italian espresso machines around, and fairly expensive. These were capable of making over 400 cups of coffee an hour. He smirked to himself. Even the smallest of the machines was worth the effort of getting new seals.

Xander was going to love this. Spike couldn't wait to see the expression on his face.

Spike sat and smoked while he waited for Frankie to show up. He wasn't smoking as much as he used to. He didn't smoke around Xander at all. He wasn't about to expose him to all the carcinogens.

Frankie showed up exactly an hour later, panting slightly.

"Sorry. Man, that old bastardis gonna be the death of me yet. He made me do all the floors, stack the chairs and stock. Shithead . . . so, you get the machines?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah, all three of them. Put them in that trash can. Handy, that."

Frankie opened the can and examined the machines.

"They're in great shape. I stuck them in the dumpster carefully. I figured I'd work out some way to get them. Thanks . . . um . . . . You want first pick?"

Spike shrugged. "Na, take your pick. I'm happy with any of them. You want one. I'll find a use for the other two."

Frankie took the smallest machine. "I've wanted this since I saw it. It's just right for me. You can make twenty cups an hour with it. The other two are from the shop and too big for me. This one was the old man's. Look, I gotta get goin' ormy girl is gonna have a fit."

Spike watched as Frankie grabbed his machine and hurried out of the alley. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called for a limo to come get him. He was going to enjoy the look on Xander's face when he saw the coffee maker.

When he got back home Spike carried the coffee makers in and turned them over to Timmins.

Timmins sat both machines on the kitchen table and started disassembling them. Spike watched with interest.

"Guy I got them from said the seals were bad. Don't seem like they could be. The handles don't catch or anything."

Timmins laid the parts out and examined the seals. "Seals are bad. Not really bad, but they do need replacing. I'll order two sets tomorrow. If I'm careful, I can get a good set out of these and have one working in . . . half an hour."

Spike smiled happily. "Great. I can't wait to see Xander's face when he sees them. He said he wanted one a while ago . . . Where is the boy?"

Timmins looked up from the part he was examining. "He's still in his office, I think. I promised him coffee a while ago. He's translating some scroll or other and seemed very interested in it."

Spike gave Timmins a disbelieving look. "Xander Harris, the researchophobe is translating a scroll? Don't believe it. He's readin' a comic or sommat. I'm goin' to find him. Bring . . . no, let me know when the machine is ready and I'll bring him in to see it."

Timmins nodded absently. "Of course, Master."

Spike wandered down the hall wondering if Xander was even awake. Sometimes he would fall asleep on the couch watching tv. Xander wasn't asleep, though, he was hunched over his desk writing something in a notebook. Spike tapped at the door.

Xander looked up squinting slightly. "Spike, hey, come in. I'll ring for Timmins to get you some tea."

Spike sauntered in and plopped into a chair. "Don't bother. He's busy fixin' up your surprise. And no, I'm not tellin', you'll have to wait and see it . . . what ya doin'?"

Xander gave Spike a wary look. "I'm translating a Talpapda tribal scroll. I haven't gotten much past the title but it's a dilly." Xander consulted his notes. "The Proper Behavior Expected of something . . . it's been handled so much some of the text is really blurry . . . in the Court of Thanatos. It's in fair shape . . . um . . . you won't tell?" Spike shook his head. "I snitched it from Giles."

Spike couldn't help but snicker. "You what? Nicked it from the Watcher? That's rich. I won't tell, pet. But why?"

Xander smirked at Spike in a very unfamiliar way. "Because he told me I couldn't. Couldn't have it, couldn't translate it, couldn't understand it. But I can. I know I'm stupid. I know I don't know things. But I can learn if someone is patient enough to teach me. Really teach me, not just throw me a bone or rattle it off so fast I don't get it. So . . . I wanted it, I took it. I'll give it back after I'm done with it, no worse for wear."

Spike felt his jaw drop; this was a side of Xander he hadn't known was there.

"Well, pet, I'm fair gob smacked, I am. Can . . . never mind. When you're done with it, I'd like to read it. Can I see?" Spike gestured to the notebook Xander was writing in.

Xander shrugged. "Sure, but you won't be able to read it."

Spike eyed the scrawl in the note book. He'd never seen anything like it.

"What's this, then? Don't recognize it."

"Gregg Shorthand. Makes it easier to take notes and I can read it later. My handwriting is worse than a doctor's. So my English teacher says . . . said."

Spike considered eating the teacher, but decided that she or he would be too dry. No one should make Xander feel bad.

"So . . . how's the translation goin' then? Looks like you've made a little headway."

Xander took back his notes. "In the court it is imperative that the . . . not sure about that, but I think it's master . . . not show . . . this bit is weird . . . his pet off by allowing anyone to touch. It . . . or maybe he . . . is inviolate. Instant insult must be taken if liberties are . . . something . . . it's really hard to translate. I need several books that I don't have access to. Wish I had a copy of Wright's demon language catalogue. It'd be just what I need. And a copy of N'tk'la'd."

Spike was impressed; Xander actually got the glottal stops right.

"This language is full of words that only mean one thing and I don't have agood enough grasp of the vocabulary. And they only use honorifics, no names. Magic in a name, you know." Xander mumbled off as he started working on the translation.

Spike slipped out and checked on Timmins, who told him the machine wasn't quite ready yet. He then went into his office and retrieved the two books Xander had mentioned. He returned to Xander and placed the books by his elbow. Xander glanced at the offering, then yelped.

"Hey! The books. The very books I wanted. Thanks. Where'd you get them?"

Spike shrugged. "I got books. Lots of them. I'm not ignorant. Just don't care that much. Angelus was all about the violence. Beat the need to read out a' me ages ago. But . . . well, I like to still, so now that wanker isn't around, I do what I please. Got a bunch of books from the Order. Not that I'm interested in half of them. They sent all the books that they thought a Master like me ought to have."

Xander gave Spike a look he couldn't interpret and opened the N'tk'la'd. He spent twenty minutes comparing something in the book to something in the scroll. Spike watched as Xander scrunched his nose up and tugged at his hair, mumbling to himself.

Timmins tapped at the door and whispered just loudly enough for Spike to hear, "It's fixed."

Spike gently placed his hand on Xander's notebook. "Give it a rest, yeah? Timmins made coffee."

Xander grinned at Spike. "Oh, god, coffee. Great. Tell him to bring it in."

Spike shook his head. "Got a surprise for you, I do. Come to the kitchen so you can see."

Xander stood up and stretched. "Ok . . . . um . . . Spike?"

Spike jerked his eyes from Xander's exposed, flat, taut abs and pinned them on his face. "Yeah?"

"Kitchen? Surprise? Coffee?"

Spike turned reluctantly and led Xander to the kitchen.

Timmins smiled when he saw the delight on Xander's face. Sometimes he seemed so young. Spike had to grin; that look was priceless.

"Spike, you remembered. You . . . oh, man. This is so great. I heard the Espresso Pump replaced theirs. It won't be the same now. How'd you do this?"

Spike put on his most arrogant Spike-face and tipped his head to the side. "Got connections, don't I? Master Vampire, Master of Sunnydale, right?" Spike grinned at Xander. "Nicked 'em."

Xander started laughing. "Oh, hell, Spike. You met Frankie, didn't you? He hates his job, and the owner of the place. He's always said if he could get one of the coffee makers, he'd quit the next day. Super." Xander turned to Timmins. "Well, fire it up. I want my coffee."

Timmins obediently did as he was told and offered Xander his choice of embellishments. Xander refused anything except a half spoon of sugar.

"This late at night, all I want is the espresso. But I do like a Snicker." Timmins raised his eyebrow and Xander gave him the recipe, much to Spike's amusement.

Xander sipped his coffee with obvious enjoyment and, when he was finished, asked for another. Timmins blinked. Spike was off on another round of snickering.

"And what is it you might be a sniggering at, may I make so bold as to ask?" Xander stuck his nose in the air.

Spikes opened his mouth, closed it then roared. Xander laughed along with him while Timmins muttered, "Butchering Pygmalion. What next?" but he was smiling too.

Xander was finishing his second double when his cell phone rang. He picked it up and punched the connect then wished he hadn't.

"Alexander, take some advice from a friend. Forget whatever it is you think you know. It won't be pretty if you don't. Bad things might happen. Remember, you're only human, people make mistakes. Make the right one."

Xander took the phone away from his ear, looked at it for a second then just disconnected.

Spike and Timmins were both looking at him like he'd grown another appendage.

Timmins snarled so nastily that Xander gave him a puzzled look, but was distracted by Spike. Spike reached out, took the phone from Xander and fiddled with it for a moment. Then he glared at Xander.

"No callback number. It's blocked. What the bleedin' hell was that about? An' don't give me that innocent look. You're not stupid, no matter what the bloody Scooby gang think. 'Fess! Now!"

Xander sighed. He hadn't though they'd find him quite this soon. Or that Spike would be this upset.

"Ok. Damn it! I wish . . . no, I don't. Ok. First, do you know what coring is?" Spike started to make some smart remark, saw the look on Xander's face and shut his mouth, shaking his head instead. "Coring is a way of stacking bundles that leaves the A on the outside and low grade in the middle. And . . . you have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

Spike shook his head. So Xander launched into an explanation of coring and various versions of the same fraudulent trick. As well as several other tricks lumber yards and hardware providers used. He talked for ten minutes while Spike listened seriously, Timmins kept coffee and snacks flowing.

"So I caught them out. The amount of stuff set aside amounts to several thousand dollars, just eyeballing it. And that's got to be the tip of the iceberg. Not good. That's why I got sent home early. And I'm on leave until further notice. Paid, but I'd rather work." Xander ruffled his hair with one hand and grumbled under his breath.

"So this idiot calls you and threatens you for a few thousand dollars worth of wood? Is he suicidal or crazy or both?"

Xander shrugged. "Who knows? Most of the people I work with don't even know vampires and whatnot exist. Much less Masters and all that. So a knee breaker calls the little guy to shut me up. Won't work. I'm not sure what happens next. I think I have to see lawyers and stuff."

Spike nodded thoughtfully and picked at his lower lip. "I'll see what I can come up with. If the threat is real . . . not that I don't believe you. Heard the threats myself, didn't I? But is it an empty threat? Or will they really do something? Hmm. Timmins, tell Bruce to start training Xander in self defense. And get hold of my Solicitor and have him find out what's going on, what Xander has gotten himself mixed up in." Spike turned to Xander. "You do what Bruce tells you to. Learn as much as you can as fast as you can . . . damn that bloody Watcher. If he didn't have Buffy on the brain, he'd have trained you himself. Fuck."

Spike stormed out, leaving Xander blinking in his wake.

"Well, that was . . . different."

Timmins silently snarled and made the preparations Spike had ordered.

The next morning was interesting for Xander. First, he got espresso from his new machine, which was a treat. Second, he got a bodyguard. Third, Bruce came to get him for his morning workout. Since he'd been working out in the evening after going back to work, this confused him.

"But . . . I . . . you . . . Spike!" Xander's voice rose to a near whine.

Bruce just chivied him to the gym.

The first thing Bruce did was have Xander fight him which turned out to be a disaster. Xander flailed, stumbled, and generally demonstrated his usual fighting style. Bruce eyed him, then snarled, "What is wrong with you? You've got excellent instincts but you . . . you act like you're afraid to fight, afraid not to and know you're going to get hurt no matter what."

Xander shrugged. "Got it in one."

"Excuse me?"

"My dad. Well, let's just say he'll never win father of the year. He'd smack me around and if I fought him, he'd smack me more. If I didn't fight him, I'm a sissy. And that ambidextrous thing messes me up, too. So yeah, no matter what I do, I know I'm gonna be hurting."

Bruce ground his teeth. Xander was the kindest, most loyal, biggest hearted person he'd met in a long time. The way his parents treated him made Bruce want to bite them.

"I know what you're thinking. Don't bother. You'll only get indigestion. Or alcohol poisoning. Now . . . I'm fucked up. How do we fix it? Oh, and I don't have to go in to work until further notice. So, I was thinking. I could work out an hour in the morning, have breakfast, do some translating I want to do. Then we could have another session in the afternoon. That leaves the evening for . . . um . . . things."

Bruce agreed with Xander and made mental notes to be sure that Xander had as many successes as possible early on. His self confidence was almost nonexistent.

"Good. I think an hour in the morning dedicated to learning forms, half an hour of Tai Chi, then shower, breakfast, and then on with the rest of your day is good. The afternoon sessions will be spent in combining forms and actual training in combat. Do you do any weapons?"

Xander shrugged. "Not too bad with an ax. But . . . I'd really like to learn to use a sword. Ok. Laugh now."

"Wouldn't dream of it. If you want to learn to use a sword, that's a good thing. I can teach you to use a katana. One somewhat like this one."

Xander gave him a blank look so Bruce went to a locker on the wall and took out a katana. Xander eeped. The thing was longer than he thoughta sword ought to be.

"This is my personal sword. _It_ is an odachi, longer than a katana by one shaku." At Xander's puzzled expression, he explained. "A foot. I'll go over the different swords and knives with you later. Right now I need to find you a sword. One that fits you. I never did understand this attitude you westerners have. You can't just grab a sword and use it. You need training, a great deal of it."

Xander started to object that he didn't have time for lengthy training but Bruce forestalled him.

"I know you need to learn something now. But I don't know anything about broadswords soI'll teach you what I know. There's a lot that is effective and easy to learn. I'll teach you the finer arts too, but later. So . . . sword."

Xander blinked for a second. "I don't know. Could we skip swords for right now? I think I need to learn more forms before anything else."

Bruce shrugged, tucked the sword back in the locker and returned to face Xander.

"Very well. I'm not going to insist. But we do need to work on your flinches. You've got an impressive set of them. How you . . . never mind. That you've survived this long, with that mess, fighting demons and vampires is astounding."

Xander gulped then forced the words through clenched teeth. "I can fight . . . just . . . my dad really . . . messed me up. You cure me and I'll . . . I don't know what. And I don't care how you do it. I'll do anything you say. You've helped me lots already. So, you say, I do. Let's get started."

Bruce took a stance and told Xander to take its mate. Xander stood in stance and Bruce started teaching him pushing. Each stance has an 'answer', the object of pushing being to teach attacks and counters. Xander did very well and Bruce told him so. Xander flushed with pleasure.

Bruce demonstrated a form and led Xander through it several times until he had it right.

"Now do it one hundred times correctly. I'll keep count. And watch you for form. It's important to grind the feel of the movements into your muscles."

Xander thought for a second. "Like hammering in a nail. Do it enough and you can do it with one blow."

Bruce nodded. "Exactly. Can you do that?"

Xander shrugged. "Yeah, and I don't dimple the dry wall when I do it, either."

"Oh, well, that makes things a little easier. At least I know you're capable of doing this. It's just a matter of overcoming ingrained reactions."

Xander took up his beginning stance and started practicing. Bruce corrected him once or twice but was pleased to see that Xander had gotten the form down very well within the first ten repetitions.

Spike came in to see how Xander was doing. He stood and watched for several minutes then walked over to Bruce.

"How's he doing?"

Bruce didn't turn his head. "Well." He called to Xander. "That's fifty. Keep count yourself now. Master Spike wants me."

Xander grunted in acknowledgment and continued to work.

"Please forgive me, Master. I was counting his repetitions. It's very important to keep proper track. How may I help you?"

Spike rubbed his forehead. "First off, relax, I'm not gonna punish you for being insolent. Especially if you're working with Xander. Tell me how he's doing."

"Very well, in light of how he was trained. His father seems to be at the root of most of his problems. Or his friends. He could have been an excellent fighter, but no one trained him. And his father has destroyed his reflexes. His natural instincts are good, but every time he starts a good move, he flinches. He is going to have to do some real work to break himself of bad habits."

Spike muttered, "Soddin' fuck. I'm gonna kill him." Then hepinned Bruce with a stern glare. "Fix him."

Bruce bowed. "Yes, Master. My pleasure."

"How bad is it, really? And is there anything I can do?"

"Very bad. As to what you can do, you could work out with him a bit."

Spike considered this for a while then shrugged. He didn't mind working out with Xander; that gave him an excuse to touch him without getting him all fired up.

He watched Xander do his form for a moment. "Ok. That'll be good. Just . . . I don't want to make him look bad."

"You won't. I want him to practice throwing. He can't work out with most of the people . . . vampires that are available. They don't have the reflexes needed to be careful enough with him and I don't want them developing them. That would make them bad bodyguards. You won't hurt him by accident. Also, it'll help develop trust between you. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll need you. If that is acceptable."

"It is. Just don't wear him out too much."

Just then Xander exclaimed, "One hundred! Now what?" He turned to see Spike and grinned. "Hey. Workin' out here. See me, working out man. And what do I owe this pleasure to?"

Spike aimed an exasperated glare in Xander's general direction and snarled, "Shut it. Ya sound like an idiot. An' I'm here to check up on ya. You're doin' good so far but Bruce says you need a sparrin' partner. I'm it."

Xander gave Spike a deer in the headlights look and started stammering. "I . . . but . . . Spike . . . you . . . Buffy . . . you."

Spike blew up. "Damn it, whelp, shut it. Find a thread and follow it to some sort of sentence."

Xander took a deep breath, organized his thoughts and started again. "Spike, I don't know. I'm not even in your city, skill-wise. You nearly beat Buffy. I really think the only reason you lost is because you remembered you weren't supposed to fight her at all. I . . . I'd really rather you didn't break my bones. I'm tired of being laid up."

Spike reached out and gently caught Xander by the back of the neck. "I'm not gonna beat up on you. One of the reasons I'm a good choice is I'm a good fighter. I won't hurt you by accident. And if you mess up and hit me you won't hurt me. The other reason is . . . well, I wanna. 'K?"

Xander shrugged. "Ok. What do we do first?"

Bruce took over and Spike and Xander spent the next hour working on pushing with each other. Spike was a bit bored but he was determined to keep his boy safe, and if that meant being bored, so be it.

So he pushed with Xander, taking it easy in order not to knock him over. Bruce watched, called instructions and corrections to Xander and marveled at Spike's expertise.

"Master, I didn't know you knew martial arts."

Spike shrugged. "Spent ten years in China. Killed me a Slayer there. Learned something about martial arts but a refresher wouldn't hurt. Work out with me."

Bruce bowed. "Of course. It would be an honor. At what time?"

"Right after Xander does his afternoon bit. That'll be convenient for both of us and maybe I can work off enough piss that I don't feel like killing every bugger that argues with me."

Bruce nodded and told Xander to go take a shower then get breakfast. He also reminded Xander that he needed to eat a good breakfast. Neither Bruce nor Spike noticed the sullen glower Xander gave them.

Breakfast for Xander was just not what he wanted. It was good. He had a very nice omelet with mushrooms, onions and ham, toast, juice and coffee. The only thing he really enjoyed was the coffee.

He wasn't ungrateful to Timmins for cooking for him, but he was feeling insecure with all the changes. He really wanted a breakfast of things he was used to. Like Cocoa Puffs with chocolate milk, Wonder Bread toast with grape jelly and coffee with sugar and cream. He was really tired of eating healthy, especially as most healthy food seemed to taste bland.

Xander decided to make a small road trip. He picked up his truck keys and headed for the door.

"Hey, Timmins, I'm going out for a little while. Be back in no more than two hours. 'K?"

Timmins poked his head out of the laundry room. "Master Xander, you can't go out without a bodyguard. It'd be more than my skin is worth. Wait just a minute and I'll find someone to go with you."

Xander clenched his keys in his fist. He didn't need a guard.

Spike wandered by, smoking and grumbling. He looked up at Xander and remarked in a casual way that made Xander grind his teeth,"You waitin' for your bodyguard? Good on you, pet. See ya."

Xander gave Spike's retreating back a good glare and mumbled, "So not the boss of me. Don't care about that damn spell. I'll do what I want . . . just you try and stop me."

But he waited for the bodyguard anyway. He didn't want to get Timmins in trouble.

He was relieved to see that the demon sent to guard him looked amazingly human. The only thing that could give him away was his eyes, which were solid black, no whites. He hid them with sunglasses, which weren't that unusual in the sunny SoCal setting of Sunnydale.

Xander eyed him for a second. He eyed right back.

"Ok. I can tell you don't want me. But take it this way: If I don't go, Master Spike will do things to me that are really uncomfortable, to be polite about it. I'd rather put up with a sulky human than a pissed off High Master. So . . . you wanna go out? We go."

Xander rubbed his face. "Ok, point taken. I'm sorry. Come on. Oh, do you have a name that I can pronounce?"

"Sure. Just call me Bud. It's short for . . . well, it starts out Budaduhananuh. . . and goes downhill from there."

Xander led the way to his truck. "What's it mean, if it's not rude for me to ask?"

Bud climbed into the truck. "Not rude. In fact, it's considered rather arrogant not to ask. It means Youngest Warrior to Kill a . . . well, that's the part that you don't want to hear. It sounds sort of like a pig caught in a fence. Bad for human ears. It's a big bear like thing. I killed it when I was about your age."

Xander was concentrating on getting the truck out of the garage and into traffic so he asked before he thought. "How old are you?"

Bud made a face. "Now, that was rude."

Xander spared Bud a glance. "Sorry. What kind of demon are you? I might recognize the name. Might keep you from having to call a vendetta on me."

Bud snorted good naturedly. "I'm an Immah. But don't worry. I've been around humans long enough not to take offence unless it's intended. Pay attention!"

Xander did some fancy driving to avoid the SUV that cut him off. He also did some fancy swearing, in several demon languages, Spanish and English.

Bud grinned. "Well, a well-rounded man. What was that third language?"

"Babylonian."

Xander turned his attention to the traffic. Everybody on the road seemed to be demented. Xander realized what day it was.

"Well, shit. It's Saturday. I should have kept better track but I seem to be on overload right now. Everything is happening at once. Fuck. All I want is some snacks and . . . hey . . . there's a 7-11! I'll pull in there . . . um . . . you're not going to be all bodyguardy, are you? I don't want to attract a lot of attention. Just a quick in and out snack raid."

Bud eyed the store. "No, I'm not going to be all bodyguardy . . . is that a word?" Xander shrugged. "I'll just come in with you, like we're buddies. Just don't hand me anything. I can't get to a weapon if my hands are full of stuff."

Xander nodded. He could understand that.

They wandered into the store, looking like nothing more that a couple of friends picking up snacks and sodas. Xander took his time wandering up and down the isles.

Bud stopped to watch Xander from one corner of the store. It was easy to use the security mirrors to keep track of him without seeming to. Xander moved with unconscious grace and Bud wondered how he could be so clumsy when he was around Spike. He shrugged the thought off. He was just a bodyguard. It wasn't his business.

Xander gathered up his choices and went to the checkout. He was slightly amused and a little offended when the clerk carefully shut the bullet proof shield. He smiled and made a small 'I'm harmless' gesture. The clerk efficiently scanned his purchases and took his money. She handed him his sack and watched as he left. She knew she'd offended him, but his broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms had made her nervous.

Xander parked his truck and thanked Bud for going with him. He watched a moment as Bud smiled at him, revealing teeth more pointed than a human's, then disappeared through the door to the mansion. Xander realized that it hadn't been that unpleasant to have him along.

He told Arnold he needed a small storage room. He used the excuse that he needed a place to put things that he didn't need every day at the site. He really did want to get some of the tools off his truck, but what he really wanted was a stash. A place he could hide things. It was ingrained in him to keep precious things out of sight.

Arnold showed him a small room off the garage proper and told him he could put his tools there. He also gave Xander a key which Xander assumed, for some reason, was the only one.

Xander moved some of his tools into the room, set up a work bench and spent a while just messing around. He also stashed his snacks, except for what he ate. He gobbled down several packages of Twinkies and Ho-Ho's, as well as some chips.

After stuffing himself with things that weren't good for him, Xander ambled into his office. _I have an office? Fancy that. _Xander settled at his desk, booted up his laptop, and started working on the scroll again. He also had an interesting book in cuneiform that he wanted to read.

He wondered idly what Spike was doing but decided that he kind of didn't want to know.

Spike followed Timmins to the level below the one Xander was working in. He wondered what the devil Timmins was up to now.

"Master. I hope I haven't displeased you. Your . . . our . . . supply of blood is so unreliable it's a disgrace. The last batch had to be destroyed. It was all contaminated with drugs and alcohol. If you like such a thing, that's different. But you said you didn't and neither do I. Since you . . . er . . . don't hunt, I thought this was a good compromise."

Timmins opened the door and showed Spike a small sitting room. Very well appointed with a fainting couch, coffee table, easy chair and desk. It looked very Victorian. Spike shuddered slightly.

"Well, who's this supposed to impress? It's awful. Reminds me of my granny's sitting room. And could you find any more chichi stuff? Every flat surface was covered with bits and pieces, figurines, bowls, vases of silk flowers and brass doodads.

Timmins shrugged. "Sometimes you have to give the masses what they expect before you can guide them in the way you want them to go."

Spike sighed. "Could we get to the point? Please. I'm hungry an' I don't wanna wait too long. So get on with it, will ya?"

Timmins nodded, crossed the room and opened a door on the other side. "Come this way."

Spike followed Timmins into what appeared to be a long hallway. The workmanship was so poor as to be dangerous. Spike eyed the shaky walls with displeasure.

"What the hell?"

Timmins let Spike through another doorway without comment.

Spike's jaw dropped. There had to be at least a dozen boys and men here. All of them standing in a row, watching him with a combination of fear and anticipation.

"There are also some girls and women in the other dormitory but these are the healthiest right now."

Spike stared at the humans for a moment then realized what Timmins had done. "That's where the fresh blood is coming from, isn't it? You've set me up a stable. Hell, this is great . . . or damn bad. Not sure which yet. Timmins, how am I supposed to bite them? Tell me that."

Timmins raised his head and turned it to the side, a submissive gesture that Spike hadn't seen in way too long. Spike snorted and repeated his question. Timmins lowered his head and looked Spike in the eyes.

"If you don't want to hurt them, I don't think the chip will punish you. You said it only . . . I believe you used the term 'fired', when you tried to bite someone and you've always bitten to kill. I think if you just feed nothing will happen."

Spike considered. He'd always thought of the 'little drink' as a poofter's excuse for being too afraid to kill. But now . . . he had way too much to lose to leave a trail of corpses and newbies. He bit at his lip as he watched the men standing, waiting, watching.

"So, how do we do this? I just pick one?"

Timmins nodded. "I've explained what is going to happen to them . . . I fed off one in the presence of the others. They're not going to get upset. I believe 'freak out' is the term."

"You use the little drink? How do you keep from taking too much?"

Timmins thought, 'this is going to get me punished'; he was sure of it. "Self control. You just take a certain amount and stop. If you roll them, most humans don't even remember it. They feel a little tired the next day but that's all. It takes a little longer to get full. Three or four humans are needed."

Spike pointed to a man."Him." His choice was a big man, hard faced and square in the shoulders. He didn't look like he'd freak easily.

The man followed Spike, who followed Timmins into a near by room. It was rather clinical, with a barber's chair in the middle of it and behind that a tall stool on castors. It was excruciatingly clean. One of the reasons Spike felt nothing but contempt for what he called 'the nibblers' was that they lived in filth.

The big man settled comfortably in the chair and Timmins tipped it back, showing Spike how it worked. Spike sat on the stool and scooted closer. He eyed the man, who eyed him back.

"If the chip fires an' you peach, you're dead."

"You're giving me three hot's and a cot. A second chance and something worth doing. I'm silent joe. Ok?"

Spike decided to get on with things and ask questions later. He thought for a moment then decided to break withtradition completely and feed from the arm instead of the neck. The blood would flow slower, giving him more control over how much he took.

He licked the bend of the man's elbow and then bit into the vein there. Nothing happened; the chip didn't even give him a twinge. He drank until Timmins patted him on the shoulder. He opened his mouth slowly, then licked the two pin prick marks until they stopped bleeding. Timmins stepped up and covered the scabbed over marks with a large bandaid.

Spike just sat back and waited as the man bowed carefully then left, walking slowly. Timmins went to the door and turned him over to someone on the other side, to be taken some place to recover, Spike assumed.

"Master? Are you all right? You're trembling."

Spike realized that he was. A slow tremor ran down his body, then another. He put one hand to his face and felt the tears he hadn't known were flowing until he smelt them. Timmins retreated to the hall to give Spike some privacy. This wasn't something anyone should see.

Spike stifled his sobs by biting into his own arm. He could _feed_. Not like he was used to, but he could eat, he could take care of himself. He didn't have to rely on the Watcher, the Scoobies, or anyone else. He gulped back the last of his tears, washed his face at the small sink in the corner and called Timmins.

"Master?"

"With the exception of my honor, Xander or a few books, you ask for it and it's yours. I mean it."

Timmins smiled happily. "I'll think on it. But for now, I'm just happy that it worked. I'll bring you another, shall I?"

Spike fed off two more men, easily stopping before he took too much. It was different from the nibblers, who fed without killing. At least, not immediately. Spike resolved to run the last of them out of town soon.

As they returned to the upper levels, Spike asked a few questions. The answers amazed him.

Timmins had been prowling the neighborhood to find people who, through different bad circumstances, were in trouble. He'd offered them help in exchange for being under a contract for one year.

Spike settled to read the contract for himself. It was an interesting document, full of blanks to be filled in to fit the individual. Generally it promised education, job training, rehabilitation or some other desirable but unattainable thing in return for: not using drugs, drinking to excess or smoking and giving one unit of blood every three weeks. It also contained some riders about reasons for breaking the contract, including ill health.

"Timmins. I don't like this rider. Take it out. If they get sick, it's not their fault. In fact, it'll probably be mine. So . . . don't bitethe hand that feeds." Spike snickered at the same time Timmins did. "Bad choice of phrase but you know what I mean."

Timmins allowed that he did. And said that he'd have the lawyers on the revisions tomorrow.

For more information about the espresso maker: you're really interested in swords go here:

http://en. 


	9. Chapter 9

Ulterior Motives 9

Betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1

Xander decided that he was going to work on the lower level in the morning. He wanted to get it done as soon as he could. He didn't want Spike's 'people' living in squalor. He thought of them as people, even though they were vampires and demons. There were too many of them who were likeable, good people who did their best not to hurt anyone. He sighed. Things had been a lot easier before he became an ex-Scooby. He didn't need to know that some demons were good.

He shrugged and set to finishing the walls of the cubicle he was working on. If he got this one finished today, he could finish the last of this line tomorrow. That meant he only had one more hallway to finish. He also had a training session to get to. Then he could look for something else to do.

Vignette

Giles shuffled the papers on his desk around, looking for a scroll he was sure he'd left there. The last person he'd seen with it was Xander. Xander. . . he hadn't thought of him for a week or more.

Giles stopped still for a moment. Then he snarled. Something was seriously wrong. He was supposed to have done something. He settled back in his chair and thought hard. Then he shuffled papers again with more serious intent.

He found the book and notes that Spike had given him. He remembered going over them once, to see what Willow had done. But he couldn't remember doing more than that. Something about a spell from Mim's and thralls. He found his mind wandering, but this time he firmly pulled it back to the business at hand.

Half an hour later he was wondering if he'd be censured by the Council of Watchers for strangling Willow. She'd not only cast a thrall spell, but a protected one at that. One that could, and had, distracted anyone from attempting to break it. Not that this one could be broken.

Giles rubbed his forehead and started gathering spell ingredients. He knew he couldn't break the spell, but he could break the protection. At least thenthey'd remember Xander.

Xander picked up his cell phone, put it down, picked it back up. He wanted to call Willow but the last three times he'd called her she hadn't called back. He was beginning to wonder if they'd ever really been friends. Had he just been convenient? He couldn't believe that. She'd spent way too much time trying to help him with homework and other things for him to believe that. So what was going on?

Buffy was next on the list; he hadn't called her yet. When the phone began to ring, he had hopes.

"Hello? Buffy here."

"Hey, Buffy. Xander. How's things?"

"Oh, hey, Xander. Everything's fine. I'm just about to go out. I've got a study group in . . . shit, five minutes. And if I'm late again I'm going to get kicked out. I've got to go. I'll give you a call later . . . this afternoon. No, sorry. Tomorrow? Or day after. Gottago,seeyou,bye."

The phone clicked and Xander took it away from his ear, stared at it for a second then threw it at the wall. It shattered into pieces. Just like his heart.

He stumbled to his rooms and leaned against the door. He couldn't believe that Buffy had blown him off like that. He hadn't seen any of his so-called friends in at least a month, except for that one night when he'd lost his temper with them. And that had been their fault.

All he wanted to do was curl up and cry. Or kick someone. Or thing. He compromised by kicking the door shut then curling up on his bed and trying not to cry.

Spike heard the door slam as he headed for Xander's office. He'd heard an odd sound, like something hitting the wall, and decided to investigate. Now all he could hear were suppressed gasping sounds.

He tapped at Xander's door and after hearing a muffled 'go away' he opened it and entered. Seeing Xander curled in the middle of his bed gave Spike a funny feeling in his chest. Not a funny ha ha feeling, either.

"Hey, pet. What's all the fuss about, huh? Tell me. Come here." Spike settled against the headboard and pulled Xander against him. "Hush, now. I'll fix it if I can."

Xander sniffled softly and shook his head, grinding his cheek against Spike's ribs. "Can't. I c-called Buffy. She blew me off. I ca-a-a-lled Willow last week. At least th-th-three times. She never called. . . " Xander gave up trying to talk and sobbed; harsh sobs, dragged out of him by grief. Spike hated the sound.

"Shhh, pet. Don't fratch yourself. I don't know what to say. I'd like to say I'll fix it . . . but I can't fix this. It was broken long before I came along."

Spike shifted until his torso was wrapped around Xander's head and as much of his shoulders as possible. He sifted his fingers through Xander's flopping bangs and over his scalp. He petted and stroked, cooing softly, just like he'd done for Dru when she was upset but with much better results. Xander finally stopped crying. He sniffled for a few moments then accepted the tissues Spike offered.

After blowing his nose and wiping the last of his tears off his face, Xander sighed. "Am I that big a fuck up? That bad a friend? What the hell is going on? I don't deserve this. I . . . I think I hate them. Just a little. I shouldn't, should I? Or . . maybe I should. I don't want to. But. . . I feel like hell."

Spike gave the best advice he could. "Maybe you should just forget about them. If they want to be friends, let them make the first advances. They're the ones who are wrong. You don't need them, anyway. You've got better friends at the site and here. I'm not knockin' 'em, but you've got to admit the Scooby gang don't treat you right. Here, blow your nose again." Spike looked at his watch. "Then you better head for the gym. Bruce will be expecting you."

Xander blew, wiped and left. Spike glared at the wall, thinking.

While Spike did some serious thinking, Xander did some serious working out. He and Bruce went over all the Tai Chi forms he knew and Bruce demonstrated their more violent applications. They worked on pushing and then Bruce taught Xander another form and set him to practicing.

Bruce wasn't sure what was wrong with Xander but he could smell the remains of tears. He wasn't about to ask questions but he was going to do his best to support Xander. He taught Xander another beginning form and made sure that he knew it properly before he set him to repeating it one hundred times.

Xander worked himself into an exhausted state, where he knew he wasn't going to do much thinking. It wasn't worth worrying about, so he wasn't going to. If Willow and his other friends didn't want to be friends anymore, he'd get over it.

Bruce reached out to correct Xander's stance and found himself on his back on the mats. He blinked once, very slowly. Xander was standing over him with a very unpleasant expression on his face.

"Easy, Master Xander. I just meant to correct your stance. I meant no offence. Please forgive me."

Xander gave Bruce a thousand-yard stare for two seconds then he snapped back to himself with an almost audible click. Bruce nearly cheered.

"What. . . who . . . how. . . I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. What the hell, just . . . I . . . Did I hurt you? Here . . . let me help you up."

Bruce accepted Xander's hand up and settled his gi. "What happened? I touched you unexpectedly. Don't be sorry. I didn't expect something like this. This is good, in one way, and bad in another. Your natural reflexes have been suppressed so thoroughly that it's a crime, but this proves to me that you can be retrained."

Xander held up a hand to silence Bruce. Bruce obediently fell silent as Xander paced and thought. When he finally came to a standstill, he had an unexpected expression on his face. Fierce, furious, determined. It sat well there.

"I know you said you wouldn't train me like you were trained. But . . ." Xander sighed, outlined the threat from the unknown person and reason behind it briefly. Then went on to floor his teacher. "I don't care what it takes. I want what I should have. I want my reflexes to be what they should be. Train me. Teach me."

Bruce knew exactly what he had to do to break Xander's ingrained flinches. After he explained itto Xander, all Xander said was, "If we do it that way, how long will it take to fix me?"

Bruce thought carefully. "If you can take it, two days, maybe three."

Xander nodded. "I'm going to spend tonight finishing up a translation, eat a good supper and breakfast. Then we'll train. Ok?"

Bruce nodded. "Yes. I'll see you this afternoon for our second session, where I'll finish my assessment. Then I'll see you in the morning. We'll begin intensive training then."

Spike examined the blueprint of his mansion and grumbled. He didn't like hidden passages no matter that he used them to his advantage. They were a disadvantage when he was trying to establish security.

The stairs were a problem. One staircase went to the lower level where the vampire populace lived, another one went to the next level where his stable was situated. But there were two more. One was blocked at the top with a layer of concrete, the other descended several levels without a doorway and disappeared into darkness. He didn't like the smell of it. Neither did anyone else.

He thought about sending someone to investigate it but he wasn't sure who he could trust. If he sent in someone he didn't trust, he would never be sure of the answers he got. If he sent in someone he trusted and something happened to him, he'd be out a valuable asset. Either way, he was fucked. He decided not to worry about it.

"Make a sign for that door. No one goes down there."

Spike ambled off and forgot about the door for now. He had other fish to fry.

---

Spike spent a while examining the quarters his stable occupied. They were clean, neat and badly constructed.

"Who built this rabbit warren?"

Timmins glanced around then motioned to two men, who came forward. Spike recognized them as members of his stable.

One of them spoke, carefully keeping his eyes on the floor. "We did, Master. We're just jack leg carpenters, so it's not much. But it's better than nothing. . . Sir."

Spike eyed him but realized that he wasn't trying to be insolent, he just didn't know how he was supposed to act. Timmins frowned at the man and he shuffled his feet.

"You address me as Master exclusively. Not Sir, not Mister, not anything but Master. Ok? Now . . . I know you did your best and I appreciate it but this mess has got to be fixed as soon as possible. Timmins. . . see if you can't get Xander to set something up. The humans need . . . different arrangements."

Timmins nodded. "Yes, Master. I'll . . ." Timmins shut his mouth as Spike made a sharp gesture.

"Never mind, I'll ask him myself. I'm going to have to do more with the boy. I've been neglecting him. All this politicking is getting in the way of my unlife. Gonna stop soon. . . or else."

Spike stomped off in a flap of black leather.

He had some arrangements and a call to make.

It didn't take him more than twenty minutes to start delegating; he'd always been good at picking seconds. He could weigh a man, or demon, figure out his strengths and weaknesses. So he got things sorted and sifted, 'as me ol' mum used to say'.

"Now, if there's a question, come to me. Day to day, you lot take care of it. I don't want to be bothered with petty stuff. I'll hold court once a week. Anything you can't handle that won't wait until then, I'll handle as needed. Now get out, go to work and stop pestering me."

Spike lit a cigarette and glared around, all the 'advisors' either looked down or away. He nodded his head sharply and headed out to find Xander.

---

Xander settled down to work on his translation. He was finding the scroll interesting in a weird sort of way. And very informative. He just wished whoever had written it had used a better ink for the diacritic marks.

Spike sauntered in the room and wandered over to see what Xander was glaring at.

"Wot ya got? That scroll again? What's so interesting about it?"

Xander noticed that Spike's accent faded the more he talked. 'What's with that?' he wondered.

"It's just neat. Great information on how the oldest vampire court was run. All the rules and why they were made and how they were enforced. It's really interesting. Here. . . here's some that I've already translated."

Spike took the scribbled over sheets from Xander and squinted at one. "Can't read this."

Xander flushed. "Sorry. It's in shorthand. I'll type it up for you,if you like."

Spike put the papers down on Xander's desk. "Get you a transcriptionist. You don't need to waste your time with that. What language is that in?"

Xander looked at the scroll Spike was pointing at. "That's in cuneiform. And this one is in Demotic." Xander handed Spike a potsherd.

Spiked squinted at it. "You've got to be kidding me. Since when do you know this stuff?"

Xander shrugged. "I'm good at symbolic languages. Don't know why, just am."

"Well, pet, if you're so good, why don't you let the Watcher know?"

Xander shrugged. "Since when does a Zeppo know anything? I told Giles it was my work the first time I did a translation. He made Willow do it again. She had a pile of homework to do, which I never did. She was so upset I didn't have the heart to do it again. I just did the translations, handed them to Giles and let him believe whatever he wanted. No skin off my nose, after all."

Spike gritted his teeth. "Well, that stops now. No more translating for Giles without you get proper credit. Got me?"

Xander gazed at Spike with a bemused expression on his face. He wondered why Spike was getting so pissed; it wasn't like he was invested in this.

"Ok. That's fine with me. I kinda like having time to translate what I want to instead of some boring old prophecy that's probably wrong anyway. . . why is that, do you suppose?"

Spike settled on the edge of Xander's desk. "Because the damn things have been translated through several different languages, most like. There's only a few really reliable demon seers and even fewer human ones. If you like, I'll see if I can't get you a copy of Radell's Sights. It's reliable, but it's in Itemme. And it doesn't lend itself to the English alphabet."

Xander shrugged. "What does their symbology look like?"

"Sorta like hieroglyphics. And there's more than six thousand of them."

Xander thought. "Can you get me a dictionary?"

"Sure. Not that hard to come by." Spike patted his pockets, withdrew his cigarettes and headed for the door. "I'm going to work out with Bruce. See you in a few."

Xander noticed that Spike didn't light up until he was out the door, for which he was grateful. Smoke bothered him since he'd been sick.

Spike ambled into the gym. "Got something for me to wear? I don't fancy tryin' to work out in this duster."

Bruce smiled at his Master, who was smirking at him in an amused way. "This way, Master. I checked some sources and I know what you're entitled to. Please."

Bruce motioned to Spike to go before him. Spike picked up the uniform and snickered softly. "Hakama always look like a skirt. So . . . I'm entitled to this?"

Bruce bowed. "Yes, Master. Unless you'd prefer a gi."

Spike shrugged. "You went to a lot of trouble to get this. Thank you." He bowed slightly, Bruce bowed back and left to prepare the dojo. Spike put on the hakama, never bothering to think that they seemed inappropriate to someone who'd never been to Japan. He'd earned the right to wear anything he wanted a long time ago.

Spike settled into a kneeling position facing Bruce. They bowed to each other and went through the formalities necessary to keep their demons from rising and killing each other. Spike was more concerned than Bruce was.

After the short ceremony, during which Spike accepted a bit of blood from Bruce and gave him a drop from the tip of a finger, they were ready to work out.

Bruce started them out with a short warm up so that he could watch Spike. He wanted to familiarize himself with Spike's style and let him do the same. Spike allowed Bruce his illusions, just for a little while. When Bruce started the workout proper, Spike didn't pull his punches.

"Ow! Master, I knew you were good but this is exceptional. How . . . er . . . don't punish me, please. But how that Slayer could beat you time after time, I don't understand."

Spike sighed. "Not gonna punish you. Had to let her beat me. I had a debt to pay to the Order of Taraka. They wanted me to stay here and keep her distracted. Didn't tell me why, and I'm not stupid enough to ask. And I'm supposed to keep the newbies to a reasonable level, now I'm Master of the Hellmouth. Thanks for nothing. So. . . "

Bruce flinched. "Owing a debt to The Order is nothing to fool around with. So now I have my answers. And another question, if you don't mind." Spike raised one eyebrow. "What is that buzzing? Or humming. Maybe it's a vibration of some sort."

"That's the Hellmouth. The other reason most of my plans went south. It interferes with . . . brain waves or common sense or something. Bugs the hell out of me. Makes me short tempered and distracted. I hate the sodding Hellmouth. If it wasn't direct orders from the Master of Taraka I'd leave. . . for good."

"I see. It doesn't seem to bother me much, except when I'm really tired."

"Some are more susceptible, or sensitive, than others. I know demons that can barely feel it, and others that like it. Then there are others it drives crazy. And it attracts demons and vampires like a magnet. I think it messes with humans, too."

Bruce gathered himself together and spent another hour working with Spike. There was nothing he could teach, but he could catch and correct errors in form. Spike did the same for him.

Xander eyed Spike for a moment then entered the dojo. After bowing to Bruce, he turned to Spike and bowed. Spike bowed back, keeping his eyes on him. Xander blinked then grinned.

"I'm supposed to work out with you. You're going to help me learn to fall? Not so happy with this. But. . . "

Bruce shushed Xander. "Master Spike is very good. Very good. You'll learn how to fall without hurting yourself." Spike couldn't suppress a snicker. "Hush. And you'll learn how to throw. Simple, down and dirty throws. None of that stuff you see on TV. You're learning how to defend yourself, not entertain a bunch of Jackie Chan wannabe's. Nothing against Master Chan, you understand."

Xander nodded. "Yeah. Ok. Just . . . fragile human here. I don't want something broken just now."

Spike took the opportunity to check Xander out. He looked good. Hard and brown and – Spike forced his mind to take a sharp turn.

"Look good, pet. All hard body and healthy."

Xander blushed in pleasure.

"Yeah, well, I work out. Speaking of which. . ." Xander walked to the middle of the mat. Spike and Bruce exchanged amused glances and followed him.

Xander had been in fights with some fairly large demons and it showed. He flinched every time Spike got near him.

"Oi! Xander, if ya don't stop that, you'll never learn anything."

Xander straightened up with a grimace. "Yeah, I'll never learn how your fist feels in contact with my face."

"Codswallop. You're more likely to feel the flat of my hand." Spike turned to Bruce. "I thought we were going to teach him stuff. What's up?"

Bruce nodded. "We are. Right now, I'm just watching. I need to see what he does from the outside of a fight. I can't see his triggers as well if I'm fighting him myself." Bruce walked around Xander. "The first thing we need to teach him is how to fall without hurting himself."

Xander gulped. "I don't think I want you two throwing me around."

Spike reached out and grabbed him by the back of the neck. He faced Xander and touched his face. Xander flinched.

"Stop that. Feel. Think. Have I hurt you? Really?"

Xander thought. "Well, there was . . . but I take your meaning . . . not in a long time. And even when we hated each other, you never bothered much with me. Mostly Buffy. But that's over, isn't it? Things are really different. You . . . I'm confused. Are you bad? Or good? Or what? And ... " Xander frowned. "Do I really care?"

Spike watched as Xander did some quick thinking.

"Aaannd, I'm done. I really don't care about the past. Things are different now than they were before. So . . . you haven't hurt me in. . . probably . . .nearly two years?" Xander made it a question.

Spike nodded. "Seems about right, pet. So?"

"So, fresh leaf. You don't hurt me. I don't scream like a girl. Sounds fair. So, throw? How? What?"

Spike grinned. "It works like this: Bruce will throw me and then I'll throw him. You watch. Then Bruce will throw you and I'll spotsoyou don't fall wrong and get hurt. Yeah?"

Xander admitted that it seemed like a good plan.

He settled on his knees at the side of the mat to watch as Bruce threw Spike several times, explaining while he did so. Spike took over and threw Bruce. Xander took it all in and considered his options. He wanted to learn to defend himself. He needed to learn to fall, but he was frankly scared. So he showed he was made of sterner stuff than the Scoobies realized.

"Spike, this scares the hell out of me. I . . . what if I get hurt? I mean, really hurt."

Spike just sighed. "If you get really hurt, I call the healer and get it fixed. Then, I apologize, we go on. But you won't get hurt. I won't let you. . . git."

Xander smiled.

"Ok. Now I get to be thrown around by a Master Vampire. In advance, I say . . . ow!"

But it didn't turn out to be anywhere near as bad as Xander feared.

The first throws were so slow and low that Xander was really only tripped. He learned quickly, easily mastering the skill; after all, he'd spent most of his life falling down, or being knocked down. He wished he'd had this skill sooner.

As he got more confident, Bruce threw him harder, farther and higher. Xander handled it well. Spike was beginning to relax when it happened.

Bruce threw Xander, but Xander didn't get his **setup** right. Bruce gasped in horror as he realized that Xander was going to land badly. He was in for a bruised shoulder at the least, if he didn't dislocate it or even break it. His two hundred plus pounds landing on it wasn't going to be good, no matter what.

Spike plucked him out of the air and cradled him in his arms for a moment. When he set Xander back on his feet, Xander just stood there

"Well, that was nice. Not. Spike, thanks for saving me." Spike smirked at Xander.

Xander turned to Bruce. "I'm sorry, sefu. That was my mistake. Please let me try again."

Spike wanted to grab Xander, drag him off to his rooms and tuck him into a hot tub then his bed. He refrained by main force of will. That wouldn't do Xander any good, nor would it help him advance his scheme.

"Very well. We'll both be more careful." Bruce went through all his instructions again. Xander listened carefully.

When they continued the exercise, Xander did much better. He managed to get through the rest of the instruction without a single mistake. Spike was very pleased with him and said so. Xander nearly glowed with pleasure. Bruce gave Spike a pleased look behind Xander's back.

Bruce was fond of his young student and was pleased to see that Spike seemed to care for him much more than he wanted to let on.

Xander groaned his way to his rooms. He knew he was going to hurt all over tomorrow and he wasn't looking forward to it at all. He wanted a bath and a massage then a long soak in the hot tub.

He pulled the door of his rooms open, feeling the burn in his shoulders. He was greeted by two demons who helped him undress and get on a massage table set up in the sitting room.

"Thanks. Where'd you come from?"

One demon bowed slightly to Xander. "Master Timmins summoned us. We're to see that you don't stiffen, or get sore. On your stomach, please."

Xander obediently maneuvered himself onto his stomach and relaxed. It was nice to be taken care of instead of caring for someone else. He could really get used to this.

As he was massaged, Xander thought about some of the things he'd found out from the scroll he was translating. They were very interesting and explained a lot. He decided to finish his translation, have it and his notes typed up and give the whole thing to Spike. He thought it might help both Spike and himself.

He realized he'd fallen asleep when one of the demons patted his foot gently to wake him.

"Ummmm. I'm awake. Now what?"

The demon clicked his tongue. "Next, shower. Then hot tub. Please make sure you wash off all the soap. It makes a mess in the tub."

Xander stood up. He wrapped a towel around his waist, heading for the shower as he did so. He wasn't that body shy, except when he had bruises from his dad. He sighed happily; didn't look like he'd have to worry about that anymore.

He stepped into an already running shower and washed away the remains of sweat, massage oil and tension.

After settling in the hot tub, Xander sighed. He knew that this was going to be the last time he was comfortable for the next two or three days. He was going to enter an intensive training regimen that would break him of his bad habits or just plain break him. He wasn't too worried; if Bruce could survive it, so could he. He just wasn't looking forward to it.

After groaning his way out of the tub, Xander headed for the kitchen to see what Timmins had fixed him for supper. Timmins was still keeping him on a fairly strict diet: the food was good, nourishing and not what he wanted. He especially missed Ho-Hos and chocolate bars. He decided when he was over his training session he was going to treat himself to a pig out of chocolate milk, Ho-Hos and Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia. He practically drooled at the thought

Timmins put Xander's supper on the table and waited for him to come for it. Something was up with him and Timmins was determined to find out what it was. If Master Spike asked, he wanted to be able to tell him. It wouldn't do to be caught without information Master Spike wanted. Timmins vowed not to let his Master, nor Xander, down.

Xander settled in his chair and eyed the broiled chicken on wild rice dressing and steamed broccoli with disfavor. There was no sauce on the chicken and no butter or anything else on the broccoli. Everything was healthy, bland and boring. He ate, thanked Timmins and left.

Timmins sighed, cleared away the plates and made Xander a large cup of cappuccino from his treasured hand pull espresso machine.

Xander looked up absently and thanked Timmins for his coffee. Timmins tried to snatch a discreet peek at what Xander was working on but Xander caught him. Instead of being angry or irritated, Xander just handed Timmins a handful of paper, telling him, "If you like, you can read some. If you can read Gregg, that is."

Nodding, Timmins settled down to read, his eyes widening in surprise as he perused the translation. He realized that he had a lot to do and it needed to be done soon. Sighing, he got up and left after carefully putting Xander's papers back on his desk. He also decided that he needed to get Xander the requested transcriptionist soon.

Xander worked for about an hour more then started to power down his computer. He noticed a file that he'd flagged, so he decided to open it for a quick scan. He slowed down when he realized what it was about. The chip. The bloody, thrice damned shackle that held Spike down. Xander read carefully then realized that, once again, he was research boy. He closed the file and headed back for his quarters to rest up for his ordeal.

Xander ate breakfast the next morning but couldn't remember what he'd eaten the second he'd finished swallowing it. He headed for the gym with some trepidation and a great deal of determination. He was going to be fixed, or die trying. He was tired of being the Zeppo, the one everyone else rescued.

Master Bruce was waiting for him when he came into the dojo. He knelt and faced the vampire and bowed then settled back on his heels and waited.

"This is going to be very hard. Once we start, I'm not going to allow you to quit. Think well, make very sure."

Bruce waited while Xander took time to really think about what he was going to do, for the thousandth time.

"I need to do this. I don't want to, I'm not fond of pain. But if I don't, I'll always be less . . . not . . ." Xander sighed. "I'm not explaining this well at all."

Bruce shrugged. "I think you're doing a hell of a job. You just don't have the vocabulary. I understand perfectly. Take off your gi."

Xander took off his gi and, at Bruce's gesture, knelt again. Bruce whacked him across the shoulders with a bamboo. Xander didn't even wince. Bruce sighed; he was definitely having words with Xander's father.

"If you can take that, we'll continue."

Xander looked at Bruce for a moment. "I've had worse for not putting down the lid."

Bruce looked blank for a second then said flatly. "I'm eating that man, I swear."

"Please don't. He'll just give you a belly ache. Let's get this show on the road."

Bruce got Xander on his feet and started teaching him a kata. Xander learned quickly but, as usual, he had a tick. This time, every time Xander ticked, Bruce gave him a lash across whatever thick muscle he could reach. Xander finally managed to make it through the entire kata without a tick.

"Not bad, but you haven't got most of the forms correct. Close won't do. You could snap your own arm as easily as your opponent's. Again."

Xander grimly began again. This time the corrections were not so gentle jabs that rearranged him to the proper form. At the end of the kata Bruce grimly announced, "Ten mistakes that could have injured you. Kneel."

Xander knelt in the position he called 'bow to the master'. On his knees, palms flat on the floor, Xander bowed his torso to the correct 45 degree angle and accepted the lashes without complaint.

He stood up again and started the kata without being told. It took him three hours and fifteen lashes to get it to suit Master Bruce. Then he was made to do it ten times perfectly, which meant he had to do it fifteen times in all. He settled to kneel back in his place when he was done.

Bruce demonstrated the next kata and went through the new forms again. Xander rose and started working on them. Bruce corrected him as he had before and again Xander didn't even flinch, though Bruce knew it had to hurt.

They worked for more than six hours altogether and Xander was drooping visibly when Bruce-sensei called a halt.

"Enough. You're sweating too much. Sit on the edge of the mat."

Xander obeyed and settled, head drooping. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a water bottle was thrust over his shoulder. Bruce's shout was too late to keep him from socking the demon servant in the face.

Xander started to apologize then realized that that was one tick he needed to keep. He looked up to see Bruce smiling at him. Bruce ordered the demon out, telling him to be more careful in future.

"Back to work. You're already getting better. This form is advanced. I don't expect you to get it as quickly as beginner forms. It's a test, so I'll only be pushing you into place. After I'm sure you've got it right, you'll have to do it perfectly ten times. Punishments will be after the last repetition. Questions?"

Xander sighed. "Do I get to eat?"

"Maybe"

Xander worked on the new kata until he was ready to drop, Bruce keeping a careful eye on him. It wouldn't do for Xander to keel over from exhaustion. Bruce noticed that Xander had stopped out**-**thinking himself and was moving with the natural grace expected of someone who had worked with a Watcher.

He was pleased with Xander's progress. Bruce knew that Xander was trying very hard, obeying commands he didn't understand the reasons for.

Xander sat on the edge of the mat again, tired, thirsty and pretty sure he wasn't getting anywhere at all.

"I'm pleased with your progress. Drink all that water, please. I'll call for some supperthen you're going to learn to meditate. You need to center yourself. You have no idea where your hands and feet are most of the time. I'll give you a meditation to help with that." Xander gave him a puzzled look. "I am going to teach you philosophy as well as technique. I'm not having you leave my hands an unenlightened savage. I don't care if you never use what I teach you after you leave my hands, but you will learn it. Yes?"

Xander nodded. "Ok, coach. You got it."

Bruce swatted him on the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You never call me anything but sensei or sefu. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sensei. I'm sorry, Sensei."

"I know you're tired, but that's no excuse for carelessness or foolishness. Drink your water. I'll order something to eat."

Xander finished the water then flopped back on the mat. He knew it wasn't proper dojo etiquette but he was so tired he didn't care.

Bruce took the tray from the delivery demon and carried it to a small table in one corner. It was low, from Japan. He placed cushions to kneel on and called Xander to come eat.

Xander knelt on the zabuton, accepted chopsticks, bowl and cup from Bruce. "Thank you, Sensei."

Bruce ladled out soup, which they both ate by drinking off the broth then shoveling the vegetables into their mouths with the chopsticks. The next dish was steamed fish. Xander accepted his portion and dribbled some soy sauce on it. Bruce passed him the sesame oil without comment. Finally, Xander held out his bowl for more rice and settled to drink the last of the tea.

He ached all over; his back hurt, and his legs, arms, even his hair seemed to throb. He squirmed, trying to get comfortable.

"Hurt somewhere?"

Xander shook his head wearily. "No. Everywhere."

Bruce handed Xander a mat, pillow and blanket. "Here, lie down and get some sleep. I think we'd better leave the meditation for some other time; you'll just fall asleep instead. I'll wake you up when it's time to go back to work. It'll be early and you'll be stiff." He turned away, headed for his own bed, but turned back. "You're doing very well. Don't give up."

Xander snorted. "Not a chance. I'm too stupid. Good-night." Xander bowed slightly then turned to lay out his bedding.

Bruce started to wake Xander by shaking him by the shoulder. He got a rather nasty surprise. Xander slugged him. He staggered back, startled. He hadn't expected this but he was happy to see that Xander still had some reflexes in place. "And good morning to you too, Master Xander. Get up."

Xander started to apologize but realized that Master Bruce wasn't angry at him, in fact he was going to act like nothing had happened. So he staggered out of his blanket and over to the table. Settling himself, he waited for Bruce **- **he was going to have to start remembering to append **sensei -** to come so he could pour tea.

Breakfast was something Xander had never seen before. "What's this? Rice?"

"Congee. Left over rice, fish, and . . . looks like tofu." Bruce-sensei took a spoonful and smelled it. "Not bad, by the smell." He tasted it and sighed. "Not bad at all. I've eaten lots worse."

Xander ate some of the rice porridge, which really wasn't bad. "Um . . . Sensei, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

Xander snuck a quick peek at Bruce, who grinned at him. "Another, then. Why do you eat?"

Bruce didn't quibble with Xander; he simply answered his question. "Because I can still taste it. And smell it. Vampires that can still taste and smell human foods usually do still eat and drink. Those who can only smell it don't. Master Spike, me, and many others that I can think of can smell and taste. Master Angelus can't. He never had any patience with it. Answer?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah. You know Angel?"

"Sort of. I was at Master Heinrich's court and saw him, and Mistress Darla. I wasn't impressed. He was too much the lap dog then. Sniffing around Mistress Darla's skirts and making foolish comments to amuse her. He's grown since then but I've never forgotten." Bruce knelt back, allowing Xander to finish his food.

"Today we're going to work on swordsmanship."

Xander blinked slowly, absorbing this with some difficulty. "Um . . me . . . sword. Sort of unmixy things. Last time I got hold of a sword I . . . Giles still has a scar."

Bruce just shrugged. "We'll start out with wooden ones. You can still hurt yourself rather badly, but you won't lose a limb. Come on. Stand up and get started. I don't intend to teach you anything more difficult than you can handle."

When Xander accepted the practice sword, the first thing he noticed was the thing didn't look anything like a sword.

"Ok?"

"You're not ready for a bokken yet. That's a shinai. I'm combining the practices of several different schools, but whatever works, works."

Xander eyed the round, three foot long practice sword. It was made of slats of bamboo bound together with cord. The grips were canvas, as was the guard. It didn't look dangerous, but Xander was cautious. Buffy didn't look dangerous either.

"Also, from now on all your punishment will be with the shinai."

Xander just nodded and went to the center of the mat to begin the second part of his training. He knew this was just a stopgap, but he was willing to do anything necessary to get rid of his annoying and dangerous flinching. He thought he'd almost conquered most of it.

Bruce started Xander on the first of several forms which taught him the various sword strikes or strokes used. He called them first head, second head, first torso, second torso, and first and second leg. There were also three stabs. Xander followed carefully. When Bruce instructed him to begin, he stepped up to the practice target.

Bruce watched, corrected and punished Xander until he had the single forms correct. Then he started teaching Xander combinations.

They worked on combinations for most of the morning. By noon Xander was so tired and sore he wasn't sure he could go on. He wanted to but he was afraid he was too weak. When he told Bruce, Bruce just nodded.

"Now is the time you find out if you're . . . strong or weak. Not physically, but mentally. I think you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. Keep going."

Xander started making mistakes, so tired that he couldn't concentrate. Bruce poked and prodded with his bokken. Xander now had bruises on both biceps, wrists, thighs and several other places, where Bruce had continually poked him to correct his form.

He was also sweating heavily, and beginning to stagger. Bruce kept up the pressure until Xander felt like he was going to implode.

"Please, Master, just a few minutes' rest. I'm making stupid mistakes. I shouldn't be handling even a shinai in this condition."

Bruce blinked then smiled with pleasure. "Very well. Excellent. You're not too proud to ask for help when you need it. You're coming along very well. I'm proud of you. Sit down and I'll get you some water."

Xander sat on a small cushion placed on a zafu. Bruce came back to give Xander the water but he was asleep where he sat. Bruce let him sleep.

Bruce woke Xander by tapping him on the foot with the shinai. Xander twitched, fingers clenching and unclenching. Bruce called his name gently.

Xander blinked himself awake, apologizing, "Sorry, really sorry. Didn't mean to fall asleep like that. What . . . ok." Xander rubbed his face with both hands. "Is there any tea? I'd really like a cup of tea, coffee would be better, but tea is good."

Bruce poured Xander a cup of hot tea and waited while he drank it. He considered Xander; he was tired looking but he hadn't once asked for Bruce to let him stop. He'd done everything asked of him wholeheartedly, putting in his best efforts. And it was paying off - Xander was rapidly turning into a good fighter. All Bruce had to do was convince him of it. He decided to send one of the lesser minions to see if some of Master Spike's stable could spar with Xander.

They could, so he made arrangements while Xander had something to eat.

Xander stepped into the middle of the mat and shuddered. Bruce punished this with a sharp blow from the shinai. Xander steadied himself and waited for someone to do something.

The first attack came from a man about Xander's size. Xander swept him off his feet with a simple kick and stepped back. Bruce sighed and waited for Xander to lose the fight. He was doomed to disappointment. Xander let the man start to get to his feet then put his foot on his butt and shoved. That put him in the way of the next man in line, which tripped him and made him fall into the last of Xander's opponents. They all flailed and stumbled. Xander stepped off the mat.

"Next I run like hell. That ok?"

Bruce sighed. "It'll do for now. You show a true aptitude for martial arts. I don't understand why you're so flinchy."

Xander grinned, shamefaced. "Tender human here. Fighting demons. Seems like a good thing."

"Not really. All that does is put you off balance. You're better off to stand up to them than flinch like you did."

Xander got a thoughtful look on his face then nodded. "I think you're right. I always did well enough. Buffy saved my ass a time or two. But all in all I took care of myself and Willow. So . . . can I try again?"

Bruce nodded and waited while Xander went back to the middle of the mat. He hadn't quite reached it when Bruce signaled his spar**r**ing partners to attack. The surprise did everything that Bruce intended it to. Xander swung into action like a Slayer. The attack was over before it really got started. Xander punched one man, who had simply charged him, in the solar plexus which left him wheezing on the mats. The next man found himself flat on his back via a clothesline. The third man went over Xander's shoulder and into the mat, hard.

Xander backed up again and this time Bruce took the shinai to Xander, striking him several times across the shoulders.

The roar from the open door was the first sign that Spike didn't approve. The second sign was when he grabbed Bruce and started to bite him. Xander didn't think, he just grabbed Spike by the collar and jerked. Spike landed flat on his back, Xander climbed on top of him and started talking, fast.

"Spike, hey! Take it easy. It's ok. I'm fine. Master Bruce got me to quit flinching and I'm gonna be good at this. I've already learned sword techniques and everything. Stop. Easy. Listen to me. Ok? Spike?"

Spike already had his temper under control. He rolled Xander over onto his back and smelled him over. Xander endured it with stoic indifference. When Spike was done, he stood up and turned to Bruce.

"Talk. Fast."

After hearing Bruce's explanation, Spike nodded once. "Fine. Next time you decide to do something like this, tell me first and I'll make arrangements for a healer to be here. I'm calling one now. I want Xander gone over. You done here, or what?"

Bruce thought for a second. "I really think we are done. . . for now. He's too tired to carry on. But did you see? He did well. Very well, don't you think?"

Spike grinned and allowed that Xander had, 'taken those three down a bit.' He even admitted that Xander had taken him down.

"Come on now, pet. Wanna take you to your quarters and get you in a hot shower before you stiffen up too much. Call a healer in, too."

Xander hitched his shoulders around, checking how stiff he was. "A hot shower would really feel good. Healer, not so much. I don't think I need one." He followed Spike to his rooms and just stood as Spike stripped him out of his sweat stiffened gi and guided him into the shower. He stood in the shower stall and let the water run over him. He didn't pay much attention when Spike stripped down and got in with him, just leaned against the shower wall and waited to see what happened next.

Spike stood behind him and started washing his hair. It felt so good that Xander didn't even protest, just enjoyed the sensations caused by Spike's fingers massaging his scalp. When Spike went on to wash the rest of him, Xander managed a feeble protest.

"Shut it. You're mine and I'll touch any part of you I like. Hush and enjoy it."

Xander decided that it didn't make any difference. Spike wasn't indulging in naughty touching so it was all right.

Spike washed Xander's back from neck to heels, being careful not to touch him anywhere that might make him flinch. Then he had him turn around and started on his front. He washed Xander's face gently, laughing softly as he scrunched his face up

"Git, I won't get soap in your eyes. Tip your head back a bit."

Xander obeyed without thought and Spike washed his neck and shoulders. He worked his way down Xander's body as Xander leaned against the wall, eyes closed. He looked like he was about to fall down any second. Spike finished washing Xander's legs then stood up.

"Ok, don't jump out of your skin. I'm gonna wash the rest of ya."

"Uh huh?"

"Yeah, washed down as far as possible, then up as far as possible. Now I'm gonna wash possible."

Xander snickered slightly at the old joke.

Spike took Little Xander in his hand and washed, keeping his touch impersonal and quick.

Xander didn't have time to realize exactly what was going on until it was too late. He declined to make a fuss. Spike patted him on the shoulder and eased him out of the stall.

"Come on now, pet. We'll get you dried off and into bed. You'll sleep until you wake up. Ok?"

Xander mumbled something snide but followed Spike into the bedroom. Spike tucked Xander into bed and ran a hand over his wet hair. He loved Xander's hair. It was soft and silky. Its thick waves attracted his fingers like a flame does a moth.

"Mmmmm. Sleep now. Want . . m . . . " Xander mumbled off and started snoring softly.

Spike watched him sleep for a few seconds. Xander was breathing easily and didn't seem in any sort of distress so Spike decided not to call a healer to him. If he didn't get up within a reasonable time, he'd have Timmins send in the healer.

Arnold snarled softly. Harris was a big pain in his ass. He got all the attention of Master Spike. He, Arnold, was way more worthy and he was going to prove it. He had been spying on Xander for the last week and now he thought he had it made. He knew that Master Spike had told Xander not to snack. Everyone within earshot had, and earshot for a vampire was quite a way. He hadn't seen Xander in two or three days; he'd heard that he was training for something. Well, he was training too, training to be the Master's new favorite.

He watched for Xander to come back to his storage room. He knew Xander had a stash of forbidden snacks there. All he had to do was wait. If Xander made a fool of him, Master Spike would send him away, clearing the way for a new First Consort. Arnold wanted to be that consort very badly.

Xander woke up and lay in bed for a while, deciding whether he wanted to get up and go to breakfast or sneak out with a cup of coffee and have an orgy of Ho-Ho's and Ding Dongs. He made the mistake of deciding on the lat**t**er.

He slipped into the kitchen and made himself the biggest cup of espresso he could manage. Then he headed to his storage where he intended to stuff himself with chocolate. He deserved the reward for all he'd gone through. He still had bruises on his back and thighs.

He peeked in on Spike, who was snarling into a phone, something about turning something over to subordinates as he wasn't going to drive himself 'round the bend' with niggling nothings. He raised his cup to Spike and wandered on, still stiff and a little sore.

Spike snarled into the phone. He was in control of his court; how dare the Tarakaite infer otherwise? If he wasn't careful he was going to lose his temper and that was never good.

The phone rang again, Spike picked it up and snarled "William." He'd learned quickly that no one reacted properly to Spike. He listened for a moment then put the phone down carefully. If he didn't, it was going to be powder.

"If that stupid git has bollixed up my rep, I'm gonna blister his butt. _Damn_ it." Spike headed for the garage, striding along, coat tails flapping. Hoping against hope that Xander hadn't done anything to undermine his shaky control.

Spike entered the garage and found Arnold standing by the door, waiting for him. Arnold pointed to the door of one of the storage rooms across the garage proper and nodded. "In there. You'll never believe it. He's stuffing his face as we speak."

Spike crossed the room in a flash of vampiric speed and yanked the door open.

Xander looked up, one cheek bulged out like a chipmunk, mouth smeared with chocolate. Spike snarled, furious at Xander for putting him in this position.

He grabbed Xander and snarled. "What did I tell you?" Xander shook his head. "I told you no snacks until the healer ok's it, didn't I?"

Xander nodded, trying to swallow through a dry throat. Spike dragged him into the middle of the garage and stuck a finger down his throat. Xander gagged and choked, his reflexes trying desperately to expel the intruding digit. He vomited, gagging harshly.

Spike made Xander throw up until he was sure his stomach was empty then he stood him on his feet. Xander staggered a second then got his balance. He felt awfu; his stomach hurt from vomiting and he was sweating. He waited, pale and shaky, to see what excuse Spike was going to have for this abuse.

"Damn you, Harris. I told you no snacking. Now. . . " Spike sputtered into silence, grabbed Xander again and settled onto a stack of tires dragging Xander with him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Let go of me, Spike!"

Spike flopped Xander over his lap and pinned him.

"You know how much trouble I've gone to, to settle my court?"

"So what? What does that have to do with me?"

"You're my thrall. How the hell am I supposed to get my court to obey me if I can't get a thrall to do so?"

"So what?"

Spike lost his temper.

"So what? How many humans die if I lose control and all my minions go back to their old ways? How many demons die when human hunters find them and don't know the difference between a Thurga and an Itchick? You want that on your head? It is. It will be. They think, if I can't control and dominate you, I can't handle a court either. Dammit, Harris."

Xander suddenly stopped struggling and went limp. He knew exactly what Spike was talking about. He remembered Giles talking about how Heinrich had lost control of a court in the 1300's and the resultant rampage that had devastated Krakow. This was something he hadn't thought of when he'd decided to defy Spike.

"I'm sorry. Really, I'm sorry. I didn't think about that. I . . . please, I'm really sorry."

Spike snapped, "Won't help you none now."

He brought his hand down on Xander's backside with a loud smack. Xander yelped, more in startlement than pain. Spike stood him up.

"Drop trow. Now."

Xander took one look at Spike's face and did as he was told. The heavy push of Master's Voice didn't hurt, either. Xander fumbled his belt open and slid the zipper down. He pushed his jeans down over his hips and to the floor. He started to step out of them but Spike just silently pointed to his lap. Xander obediently went face down over Spike's knees again.

Spike yanked Xander's boxers down to his knees and smacked his hand down on one rounded globe. Xander jumped but didn't protest. Spike continued to smack Xander, covering both buttocks. He spanked until his hand was tingling and Xander's ass was cherry red. Xander finally started to cry. Not very loudly, just small hitching sobs. His tears soaked into Spike's thigh.

"Well, enough. Pull up your pants. Now. Don't argue with me, just do as you're told."

Xander pulled up his jeans, rearranged his clothing and sniffled to himself. He went to stand in front of Spike at his rather pointed glare.

"Yes?"

Spike cleared his throat.

"Yes, Master?"

"You know why I did that?"

"No" Xander's sullen expression and sulky tone of voice got him a raised eyebrow. "Sorry. No, Master, I don't know."

"Don't play stupid with me If you act like a child, I'll treat you like one. You were supposed to wait until the healer cleared you. You snuck around behind my back in direct defiance of orders. I'll have obedience even from you. Next time . . . well, there just better not be a next time. Understand me?"

Xander hung his head. "Yes, I understand."

"Best head for your quarters. I'll send the healer to see you. If he says it's alright, you can have snacks again. Get going."

Xander left, walking carefully.

To see a shinai go here:

http://en. 


	10. Chapter 10

Ulterior Motives 10

Betaed by Skippyscatt

Xander sulked for the rest of the day and into the evening. Spike left him alone until the healer finally got there.

"I called hours ago. Where ya been? Wanker."

Spike glared at the healer until he shrugged. "I had a female in labor. Ittook a while. If the service had thought it was life threatening, they'd have said so. You smacked his ass. Where's the emergency?"

Spike looked a little shamefaced. "I think I overdid it. He won't talk to me, so I'm not sure how bad it really is. Best take a good look at him."

The healer thought for a moment then faced Spike. "It's none of my business except in my capacity as a healer. But . . . I . . . I know I'm taking my life in my hands so . . . if you're interested in a real relationship with the boy – sexual, I mean – you'd better be really careful. You hurt him and he'll never like it. You need to touch him . . . a lot. Get him used to the idea. You're very tactile andI think he is too. He'll forgive you a lot if you cater to his emotional needs. Enough said. I'd better see to him."

Spike started to get indignant with the healer until he realized that the human had his best interests in mind, as well as Xander's. He thought about what the man had said and realized that he had, indeed, been neglecting Xander. He had wanted to get his business under control then see to Xander, but he was going to have to balance things better or he'd never get the boy to like him.

"Ok, so . . . you don't . . ." Spike followed the healer into Xander's room and blinked. Xander was face down on his bed, naked. His buttocks were rather badly bruised and he was really sulking.

Spike sighed silently. damn

"Well, young man, let me take a look at you. This isn't as bad as it feels. You're bruised but . . . mmmm . . . ."

Xander cringed. That particular noise from a doctor usually meant he had a broken bone. Spike snarled at the healer.

"Don't scare him."

"You're sure he's afraid?"

"Smell it, can't I?"

"Of course. . . . Xander, truly, there's nothing wrong but some bruising. I'm going to give Master Spike a lotion to put on it. And forgive me for touching you without permission. Sorry."

Xander lifted up and looked at the healer over his shoulder. "Excuse me? And when can I have chocolate?"

Spike couldn't help smiling at Xander's priorities.

"You can have chocolate, in moderation, any time you want it. And, as you're Master Spike's pet; no one is supposed to touch you without his permission. Or yours, in the case of healers and such. Few of the new generation of vampires know the true way of things. They share their pets and abuse them. Most of them haven't got a clue. I keep treating the poor things, but most of them don't last long. Now . . . here's the lotion. Pat it on, don't rub." He turned back to Spike. "And if you have aspirin, he can have some of that. Well, I've got several other patients to visit. If you have any questions or concerns, call the service. I might not be available, but the other two healers are as good as I am. Trust them."

He closed his case, nodded to Spike and walked out, leaving the lotion on the bedside table.

Spike sat down on the side of the bed and picked up the lotion. "I'll put this on for you."

Xander stirred restlessly. "You don't have to. Timmins can do it. It's ok."

"Not ok. Xander, I . . . Bloody hell, I'm no good at this stuff. Just be still an' let me, yeah?"

Xander shrugged. "Ok. Whatever . . . Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"I'm sorry."

"Know ya are. Kinda obvious."

"Don't be a shit. I'm trying here. It'd help if you'd try too, ya know."

Spike patted lotion on Xander and sighed. "Yeah. Sorry again. Make your point."

"I . . . shouldn't have snuck around behind your back. I should have just stood up to you and told you what I wanted. I put you in an awkward position, one I wouldn't want to be in myself. You've got a hell of a job to do. Keeping the Hellmouth under control, even with the_ help_ of a slayer," Spike snorted, "isn't easy. So I . . . for lack of a better comparison . . . damaged your face. Questioned your leadership. Whatever."

"Got you, pet. So you're not mad? Not that I care."

Xander grunted as Spike touched an especially sore spot. "Sorta, but not really. I mean, I'm your thrall. I looked up that spell and its consequences. Thanks, by the way, for not taking real advantage. I . . . let's change the subject, ok?"

Spike agreed. "Yeah. You need to keep working out with Master Bruce. You're getting real good. Give yourself a rest tomorrow."

Xander agreed but suddenly exclaimed. "Oh, shit. I have to collect my paycheck. It'll be ready tomorrow. I can put them off until Friday but much longer and they'll cancel it and I'll have to have it reissued. And don't tell me I don't need it. I earned it and I want it."

Spike shrugged. "Well, you're right. It's yours and you should have it. We'll go **'**round on Friday and pick it up. I'll go with. How's that?"

Xander nodded, rubbing his cheek against the pillow. "That'll be good . . . um . . . Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"You said you'd arrange for me to have lessons, if I wanted?"

What kind of lessons?"

"Guitar." Xander's ear tips turned red. Spike smelled his nervousness.

"Ya wanna learn to play harpsichord, I'll get you lessons. Don't ever be afraid to ask me for stuff. I may say no, but there'll be a good reason."

Xander sighed; his butt was beginning to feel better. He told Spike so and Spike just grunted but he continued to put the lotion on.

He also admired the view. He could see everything Xander had and his package was very nice. Spike looked one more time at the portal he hoped to enter.

"Ok, pet. Does that feel better?"

Xander mumbled something, nearly asleep. He rolled over onto one side. Spike pulled the covers up over his shoulders, capped the bottle and left.

Xander grumbled, aware that something was missing but too close to sleep to figure out what.

Xander woke the next morning and groaned. Spike had done a thorough job of applying the lotion last night but he still felt the effects of being spanked by a master vampire in a temper. He groped for some kind of support so he could get out of bed and take care of his screaming bladder.

Timmins had been listening for sounds from the room. Spike had told him to come get him when Xander woke. He went to get Spike and missed Xander falling out of the bed.

When Spike found Xander lying on the floor, he went into game face immediately. "Ya stupid git! Why didn't you call someone? Here, let me help you."

Timmins stepped into the room hesitantly. He knew Spike was furious; he should have checked on Xander before he went to get Spike.

"Timmins, get in here. Xander needs both of us." Spike was going to have words with Timmins later, but right now Xander needed seeing to.

The two vampires lifted Xander to his feet. He was so stiff that he had trouble moving his legs. Spike finally eased him into the bathroom, with Timmins hovering in the background. Xander flushed bright red when he realized that he couldn't even pee without help.

"Dammit, Spike. I thought that lotion was supposed to keep me from getting stiff like this."

Timmins was examining the bottle while Spike helped Xander. "Er. . . no, sir. It is just a formula to keep you from bruising. It doesn't do much for stiffness. I've got something. I'll go get it. . . Master Spike?" Spike grunted to indicate that he'd heard. "Well, I . . . you should give the young master some Tylenol. I'll be back in a moment with the salve."

Xander finished his business and washed his hands. He wanted a shower but he knew that wasn't happening so he didn't resist when Spike helped him back to bed.

"Xander. Luv. I'm sorry. I went overboard . . ."

Xander held up a weary hand. "You already said that . . . like ten times or something . . . never mind. I've had worse for less. I'm just really stiff. Nothing really hurts. Timmins said I could have something? Will you get it for me?"

"Sure. And I'll see about that teacher, too." Spike didn't flinch as Timmins handed him a bottle over his shoulder. "Fix Xander's breakfast."

"Yes, master. I'm so sorry, master. I wouldn't have let him hurt himself for anything. But you said to get you the minute I heard him awaken."

Spike considered this for a moment. "Well, I'll have atalk with you later. And I do mean a talk. So make some breakfast, yeah?"

Timmins left to see to pills and breakfast and Spike bent to the business of anointingXander's buttocks with the new lotion.

The minute the stuff touched him, Xander started to relax. The residual pain faded at the first touch of the soothing liquid. Timmins placed water and pills on the bedside table and left again.

Spike continued to smooth the analgesic over Xander's bruises long after it ceased to be necessary. Xander just enjoyed the sensation of being touched with kindness.

When Spike finished, Xander headed for a shower. Spike followed him into the bathroom and settled one hip on the counter.

"Pet, we gotta talk."

Xander adjusted the shower temperature and made sure he had towels. Spike watched without comment, just enjoying watching Xander move around. Spike noticed that Xander's butt was bruised despite the lotion that was supposed to have prevented that.

"We're going to talk? While I'm in the shower?"

"Yeah. Why not? You don't have to think much to shampoo hair, do you?"

Xander stepped into the shower. "Guess not. So . . . what do you want to talk about?"

Spike sighed. One of the reasons he had wanted to have Xander semi-preoccupied was what he was going to talk about. This subject was sure to bring about a real explosion.

"You remember when I said I had plans for you?"

"Yeah, I remember, and why do I suddenly have cold chills running up and down my spine?"

"Because I got to put you on display. I'm losin' control of the court. Some of the older vampires and demons remember when the high court Master had a pet. I have a pet, you, but I don't bring you to court. It's causin' trouble I don't need." Spike waited for Xander to fly off the handle and refuse.

"Ok, I could feel that one coming. It's going to be a real problem. If you let them touch me, that is. I'll cooperate; I know the consequences if I don't. If it was just you beating my ass, I'd go for the big N. O. But if you lose control of that ravening horde, it's bad . . . real bad. In an apocalyptic bad badness. Right?"

Spike took a moment to translate that into real English. "Yeah, it is. So, you're not going to raise hell?"

Xander shut off the shower and stepped out. Spike handed him a towel and he started drying his hair. "No. I'm going to be calm guy. Real calm. Otherwise, I'll be running in circles biting myself in the small of the back. So, here's the deal. I'll do research on the old traditions. I'm not going for the way the modern Masters treat their pets. And remember I'm a thrall. Um . . . is that better or worse, by the way?So anyway, I'll . . . we'll . . . um." Xander trailed off, red-faced and flustered.

Spike took a moment to admire Xander's body, his courage and his blazing flush.

"Ok, pet. I'll write up a sort of contract. What I expect of you. You write up what you can't deal with. We'll just do this like the B/D'ers do. Safe, sane and . . . sort of consensual. I'll order you to, if I have to, but I'd really rather not. Being bound to someone who hates me isn't to my taste at all."

Xander wiped his face and mumbled something into his towel. Spike heard most of it and just exclaimed 'Oi!' in an indignant voice. But he decided not to make a big deal of Xander calling him soft hearted.

Xander ate the breakfast Timmins provided and asked him to get a message to Master Bruce that he wasn't going to be working out today. He was still stiff.

"What will you do?" Timmins hoped that Xander wasn't going to brood over his punishment. It wouldn't do any good and a sullen Xander was sure to piss off Master Spike.

"I'm going to do some Tai Chi and yoga, try to loosen up some and work out the last of this stiffness. Then I'm going to my office to work on my translation. I still can't believe I actually have one. An office, I mean."

"That's good. Um . . . Young Master?"

Xander looked at Timmins sharply. He was looking uncomfortable, for some reason. Xander didn't like it. The valet was usually so together. "What is it? Just get it out. I won't be pissed or anything. Pinky swear."

Timmins looked blank for a second then decided not understanding 'pinky swear' didn't make any difference.

"I have a book that was left to me by my last master. I can't read it, but I'd really like to know what it says. If I leave it on your desk, could you give it a quick glance? If you can read it, I'd like you to tell me what it's about." At Xander's doubtful look he hurried on. "Oh, I don't expect you to translate the entire thing. But if you could figure out what language it's in, maybe I could learn it."

Xander smiled. "I wasn't looking . . . I mean . . . well, I'll be glad to translate it for you. It might be a while before I can get around to it but . . . yeah. I'll manage sooner or later . . . if it's in a language I know."

Timmins bowed slightly. "I'll be eternally grateful for whatever you can do. Thank you very much. I'll bring you some coffee about ten minutes after you come in, if that would be acceptable."

Xander nodded. "That would be great. I'll be off."

"Young Master?" Xander turned at the doorway. "Perhaps you should do Tai Chi first. You shouldn't eat so much just before doing yoga."

Xander nodded. "I know, but I was hungry. And I _am_ doing Tai Chi first. And I'm going to avoid inverted postures, so I should be fine. I'll quit if I get nauseous. Don't worry."

Xander left for the gym and Timmins went to fetch his book.

Xander finished his workout and turned to find Bruce watching him. "Hey, sorry about crapping out on you today. But I just didn't think I should land on my butt too many times. It's bruised enough as it is."

"Yes, I heard. I'm ashamed of you. You know better than to defy Master Spike like that. But . . . you're so young. Maybe you don't know how most masters treat their pets." Bruce went on to tell Xander exactly what he could have expected if he had been unlucky enough to have been pet to any other master. Ever.

Xander felt sick. He was really lucky. Some of the things that Master Bruce told him about would have killed him outright, and others would have made him wish he was dead. He gulped and then sighed.

"Well, I'm glad we had this little talk. Sort of. Thanks. I guess."

Bruce nodded, satisfied that Xander had plenty to think about. He really hoped this was the last time Spike would punish Xander in anger. A master vampire who lost his temper with a pet was likely to kill him.

Xander had a lot to consider as he headed for his office. He was going to finish that translation today if he stayed up till midnight to do it.

He wasn't really reading it. He couldn't pay attention to meaning when he was trying to translate this language. He had to translate it word for word, then work on grammar. Actually understanding what the damn thing meant was the last step. So he needed to finish his word for word today, and the grammar if he could manage it.

He settled at his desk and pulled a large sheet of newsprint over to the blotter. He liked the end rolls of newspaper. He could cut them into sheets large enough to copy the actual original text onto, leaving large margins. He annotated and translated there then transferred his finished work to another sheet, triple spaced. This left him plenty of room for rearranging thetext into something resembling English grammar.

After several minutes of review, Timmins interrupted Xander with his coffee and the book. Xander took the book absently, but carefully. He put it on the side table attached to his desk and returned to his translation. Timmins looked on for a moment then left Xander to his work. Surely, Young Master Xander wouldn't forget.

Xander opened his laptop and booted it up. He waited impatiently as it beeped and blinked. When the desktop finally, grudgingly displayed itself, he opened his calendar and made a note to look at Timmins' book in two days time. The calendar would show a popup to remind him.

After making another note to remind himself to get his paycheck, he opened his translating software. He used it for keeping notes, as it accepted Gregg. He didn't use anything else as he had real trouble reading. All he had to do was use the court steno pad he'd gotten online to enter notes in shorthand. The program converted the Gregg to English notes. It made him feel not quite so stupid. He also finally gave up on writing notes to himself in anything but Gregg; why torture himself with notes he couldn't read later?

He worked for more than three hours, finally getting the last word for word done. He stretched, reached over and picked up his coffee cup. He wrinkled his nose; it was empty, the cold dregs unappetising. He decided to get another cup. He needed to stretch his legs.

His foray into the kitchen yielded coffee, a Panini, and a slice of tiramisu.

He returned to his desk and worked as he ate and drank.

"Well, fucking hell on a bobsled. Son-of-a-bitching motherfucker! Crap!" Xander wanted to wad the translation up and toss it but he knew he wouldn't, couldn't. It was not good, in capital letters.

The gist of the prophecy was simple. 'The fourth of the scourge will possess a human. The human will be the light. Without the light, the Hellmouth will open. With the light all will be saved.'

The problem with the word 'light' was it had a tiny red diacritic mark over it. The mark indicated that the word referred to a human. In other words, it was really translated as the white or light-colored knight.

Of course, most of this was hidden in a bunch of flowery verbiage. Xander had managed to trim most of it off, leaving the gist of the prophecy. He wished he hadn't. The thing so obviously referred to Spike. One of the four vampires called the Scourge of Europe and Spike was the youngest of them. The white knight could only be one person. Angelhad referred to him, Xander, as the white knight more than once. He shuddered. He had been so hoping that he could get out of this mess somehow or other. But he was really stuck now. How could he refuse when he knew that it would mean the Hellmouth opened?

He put his head down on the desk and cried. He didn't want this. Why couldn't someone else do it? 'Why me? Why? I don't want to do this. I so don't. Someone else could. Riley Finn . . . he's a good choice. He's all rescue the world. I'm just a regular guy. Hell, I'm not even a hero. I'm just a construction worker. Fuck.'

He leaned back in his chair, swiped the tears off his face with the palm of one hand and blew his nose. Tossing the tissues into the trash, he straightened his shoulders. He rummaged in the drawer for the other scroll he'd been translating. That one was about the court of someone or other. He wondered if it would help any.

He settled in to work on translating the scroll. He realized that it was going to be a monumental task. The thing was disintegrating as he handled it.

He grimaced as he unrolled it. He had worked with it a little already, but this was bad. The closer to the end rod he got the worse it was. He decided to move it to the large table against the wall, unroll it completely and take pictures of it. He'd leave it unrolled. Rolling and unrolling it was going to make it disintegrate much more quickly.

He got the cheap digital camera he'd managed to save up for and took careful pictures of the scroll, well aware that he shouldn't have unrolled it. But who was going to preserve its content if he didn't? No one he knew of was interested in ancient demon court deportment. Except maybe Giles, but the last two times Xander had called him, he hadn't returned the message. Xander decide to give him a pass. If Giles was interested in Xander, he could do the calling.

After getting his pictures transferred into the laptop, Xander covered the scroll with a protective piece of newsprint and returned to his desk. He arranged the pictures in a queue and printed them all out then taped them together in order, checked that they matched properly and started translating again.

He didn't notice that it was after six until Spike knocked on the door frame and asked him if he'd turned librarian.

"Who, me? Not a chance. But this is fascinating. Great stuff. Really interesting. You know that scroll is over four thousand years old? I'm afraid I've ruined it. I didn't really believe that it was that old, so I just mishandled it all to hell. It's falling apart as we speak. I took pictures but . . . well . . . shit. I'm sorry, Spike."

Spike peeked under the paper then shrugged. "I'll have someone from the Order come in tomorrow and mojo it. It'll be ok. Don't worry. You finish your prophecy? Is it interesting? I haven't gotten that copy of Radell's yet. It's coming . . . well, enough of that. You coming?"

"Um . . . coming where?"

Spike swore. "I'm losin' my mind. I want you to come down to the lower levels and take a look at some walls. The minions built them but I got my doubts. Come give 'em a look see, will ya?"

Xander knew an olive branch when it was shoved in his face. He bobbed his head and shuffled his papers into some sort of order. He glanced at the screen of his laptop, but there was nothing objectionable so he left it on.

"Sure, I'm right behind you. Show me the way. But I need to get back here fairly soon. I've still got a lot to do tonight. You want me at court, I've got a bunch to figure out. So, go already."

Spike didn't ask any questions of Xander. He didn't want to put him off. He seemed resigned to coming to court as a pet which was good enough for Spike. He wasn't one to question good luck when it showed its face.

Xander eyed the walls with more than misgiving, more like outright disgust. "Who built this? Whoever it was, fire them. I could do better than this drunk. Or asleep. Or even comatose. I'll have to pull it all down and do it again. Sucks. Waste of good materials." Xander wandered down the hall, poking his head into rooms and grumbling.

Spike followed him with a sour expression on his face. He'd forgotten that most of the members of his stable didn't have anyplace else to go during the day. He could hear at least ten of them in the day room right now. If Xander found out what was going on, he was going to have a fit.

So of course the next thing Xander did was stick his head into the day room.

"Oh, hello. Sorry. I'm checking that the construction is up to code. If you're living here . . ."

Xander was interrupted buy a quarrel breaking out at the computer station.

"Look I know we all have our own laptops and all. But the net connections are still phone jacks and I need one. I have to turn in this assignment by five or it'll be late. It's way more important than whether you level up in Mortal Combat."

"Not Mortal Combat, it's Worlds Of War. And I'm about to become a commander of a brigade. So fuck off."

"I won't. You've got all night to do that and I've got exactly half an hour to get this turned in. So gimme the connection already."

Spike wandered in just at that moment and stalked over to the quarreling boys. "Ok, you two. Break it up. What is this?"

The two boys started explaining their sides of the quarrel at the same time. Spike just stood there listening. Finally, he pointed at the gamer. "I know that your game is important to you, but his education is more important. If you miss leveling up, it won't mess up the rest of your life. Turning in a late assignment will mess up his grade and his chances of getting a job. So, give over."

He turned to the other boy. "And asfor you, the next time you're so close to missing a deadline, I just might let him stay online. Why did you cut it so close?"

The boy hug his head. "I overslept. I donated yesterday. I don't expect you to remember. But it's hard for me to wake up the day after . . . um . . ." He shot a glance at Xander. "You know."

Spike also glanced at Xander, who was examining a wall with a critical expression on his face.

"I see. That does make a difference. But you shouldn't put off homework until the last minute, especially when you know it's coming up for your turn. Now sit down and send that off."

Spike ambled over to Xander who turned to him and shook his head. "If you want anything done with this mess, I'll have to tear most of it down and start again. I'd suggest moving everyone to a different floor and pulling all this down. Start fresh."

Spike pulled a face. "Can't do that, much as I wish I could. Where would I move them?"

Xander shrugged. "Don't know. Why not in with the . . ." Xander took another look around the room. "They're not demons, are they?"

Spike slowly shook his head. "Nope."

"They're human. And . . ." Xander glared at a thin girl in a lacy tank top and Daisy Dukes. The bite on her neck was still green. Spike sighed. Xander would have to see that particular girl. She bruised easily and with her pale complexion the bruise showed badly. "You're feeding off them. But . . . that chip keeps you from . . . ok, explanation, please."

Spike was astonished that Xander wasn't looking for a stake. He was, in fact, being reasonable about the whole thing.

"Well, I can't get proper nourishment from pig's blood. I need human. And after the thin rations the watcher kept me on, I need frequent feeding. If I was to drain a human, I could go two or three days without feeding. This was the best . . ." Spike hung his head then peeked up at Xander. He didn't look pleased at all. "You don't understand."

Xander held up a hand, cutting Spike off. "Look. Two questions." Spike gave a jerky nod. "Are they willing?" Spike straightened up and nodded. "Ok. Question two. Are you paying them?" Spike nodded again. "And obviously you're not killing them. I'm not even going to ask about the chip. If you aren't killing them, or hurting them, the chip obviously lets you do it. So, like I give a crap. It's gross, but whatever."

Spike nearly fell over. Xander, the quintessential Scooby, didn't care he was feeding on humans? The boy was growing up fast.

"You don't want to rake me over the coals? What's up with that?"

Xander turned from his examination of the studding and shrugged. "If they're willing, and you're paying, who am I to interfere? I would like to know what you're paying them. Just curious as to what would make someone allow a vampire to bite them"

Spike stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it while he thought on how to explain to Xander. He didn't need to.

"Excuse me. I heard that, and I'd like to explain. My story at least." It was the skinny girl.

Xander nodded at her politely. "Be grateful. But could you talk to me while I look some of the rest of the construction over?"

The girl shrugged negligently and trailed after Xander as he went out into the hall. "Sure, whatever. So anyway, I . . . I was a whore. Not that I really wanted to be but my Pop farmed me out since I was twelve. I figured, if I got to peddle ass, I might as well get the money myself. My boyfriend was my pimp, until he got ate. Then I was on my own. Not so good, with the vampires and the Mong demons and what all else. Then Master Timmins asked me if I was clean. When I said yes, he asked for a taste. I figured, why not? I peddle everything else. So he tasted me, off a finger, no less. When I tested clean, he made me an offer. He'd get me my dream, if it was reasonable, in exchange for letting Master Spike feed off me."

"And how's that workin' for you? Not so good, by the look of your neck."

"Actually, really well.I just bruise really easy. Other than that, not so bad as you might expect. Doesn't hurt at all. No rush either, like some guys claim. But in exchange, I'm going to art school at UC Sunnydale. I'm makin' real good grades and Master Timmins says that, when my year is up, he'll see I get an internship. I got a contract with Master Spike and everything."

At the mention of a contract, Xander gave Spike a sharp look. Spike took exception, "Bloody hell, it's for their benefit as well as mine. I'll let you read the bloody thing." The girl squeaked in dismay. "Not mad at you, am I, pet. Calm down. You go on off and . . . put some makeup on that hickey. Scoot."

The girl left with an envious look back; she knew who was who.

Xander turned to gaze at Spike for a moment. "Well, I've got to say. This job is FUBAR from the word go. I want to see every inch of this floor. I'll see what I can do about some way to keep your . . . what the hell do you call this?"

Spike goggled at Xander for a second then pulled himself together. "A stable, Xander. Ancient vampires used to have one. Now, not so easy. But I'm managing, as it's Sunnydale. So not going to bite my head off?"

"Why? No one's getting hurt. Seems to me that you're giving as good as you get. People are getting something they need. Or want. So, who am I to mix in? I've been realizing for a while that Giles has some real prejudices and I'm starting to make up my own mind about stuff. No more follow the Council Dogma guy. I'll think for myself, Thankyouverymuch. And I think . . . I really don't care. You kill one of them and I might."

Spike digested this as he followed Xander into the women's dorm. Xander made sure it was empty by knocking on the out-of-true doorframe before entering. He examined the room critically then turned to Spike.

"You have to get these people out of this mess. None of these walls are safe. I'm not sure how they fastened down the floor plates but most of these walls could come down from their own weight. So . . . um . . . hmmm."

Spike waited patiently, Got patience when I really need it, don't I? until Xander got his thoughts together.

"If I had a good nail gun with me. . ." Xander answered Spike's puzzled look. "I left my heavy duty one in a locker at the site. I didn't think I'd need it. So of course I do . . . I'll pick it up Friday when I go to get my check. And . . . anyway, I'll nail the foot plates . . . the two by fours that make the bottom of the walls . . . to the floor better. That'll make them stay up long enough for me to set up this floor like I did the one above. And . . ." Xander rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. "I want to see the rest of the floor before I finish my plan. Let's go."

Xander led the way into the back of the floor. The dorms and day room only took up about a third of the whole floor.

Xander wandered around the empty floor area for a while then asked Spike to get his tape measure and a notepad and pencil. Spike didn't get indignant or snarky. He just called Timmins and told him what Xander wanted.

"You're really not goin' ta get pissed off?"

Xander looked directly into Spike's eyes. "Would it do any good if I did?"

Spike shrugged a little sullenly, "Might."

Xander snorted in disbelief. "Yeah, right. But I really don't care. If you're getting them . . . what?"

Spike took the question seriously. "Education. Off drugs. Homes for the homeless. They sign a year's contract, feed me once every six weeks, like, and they get whatever we contracted for. I feed twice a day, one medical unit from one person. I'm gettin' stronger everyday. And they're not weak or anything. At least, no worse off than if they'd donated to Red Cross or sommat."

"So, why should I care? I'll be doing them a disservice, get myself spanked again and accomplish . . . what? Not getting allowed to clean up this mess. Which will leave them living in dangerous conditions. Without privacy. And . . . oh, get them wireless. That way there won't be any fighting over connections. You'll have to get a Corporateconnection, but you can afford it, unless you've been playing flash."

Spike shook his head, smiling slightly at Xander's use of cant. "Got dosh. I'll have Timmins set it up."

Timmins duly arrived with tape measure, notepad and pencil. He handed them to Xander who drafted a bystander to hold the end of it. Timmins went to the side to consult with Spike over internet connections and the wonder that was Xander not freaking out over Spike's feeding arrangements.

Vignette

"Buffy? Buffy. I think something is . . . not good."

Buffy sighed; Willow had been going on and on about feeling off for the last day.

"Ok, if you can figure out what's up we'll go see Giles. He'll have to help you. I don't do mojo, you know?"

Willow made a face at Buffy, who had the courtesy to look a little shamed.

When Willow and Buffy finished listening to Giles, all Willow could do was cry and declare she was 'the absolute worst friend ever in the world.'

"Yes, and how many times have I told you to check with me before doing so much as a candle lighting spell? I do hope you'll be much more careful in future. And . . ." Giles turned to Buffy. "No, you cannot stake Spike. You'll kill Xander too. We'll just have to wait until Xander decides to call us. We can't go barging in on them. We might upset the balance between them. If Spike feels in the least threatened, he might do something . . . bad to Xander. I'll see if I can slip a spy into his court."

Buffy made a face.She really wanted to rush in and grab Xander, drag him away from Spike and fix it. But after listening to Giles lecture Willow for nearly half an hour about the badness of ill-advised interference, she wasn't about to. She was just glad Giles had figured out what was going on and reversed the forget part of the spell. She felt really bad about more or less completely ignoring Xander for nearly six weeks.

Willow, meanwhile, was just hugging herself and crying. Her Xander was in big trouble and it was all her fault. She just hoped he would call her when he was over being mad.

short but I have at lest 10,000 words to do for NaNo, or I'm behind. Hope you like.


	11. Chapter 11

Ulterior Motives 11

---

Betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1

---

Xander called Aims and asked for Jake. Jake answered the phone with 'Lonergan. Talk.' Xander smiled a little at that. Jake had a completely different persona on the phone than he had in person.

"It's . . . Harris. When can I get my pay check? It should be cut on Friday."

"Harris? Oh, Xander. Well, speak of the devil. You did good boy. You've saved the company a bunch of money . . . again. So . . . thanks from all of us. As to the check . . . don't have a clue. Since you're on leave, your check won't come here. You'll have to go to corporate to get it. I'll get you the number in a sec." Jake put his phone down on something with a clunk. Xander could hear papers rustling. "Let me call you back or have someone else call you. There's some confusion as to where your check is. It was cut last week but none of those dummies thought to call you and tell you that it was cut early. Sorry, kid. Trust corporate to fuck up something as simple as getting you a check. Bye."

Xander snarled softly at the phone, sounding uncannily like Spike. "Fuck. Desk jockeys. My ass."

"Wot's up pet?" Spike sauntered into Xander's office casually. "Wot desk jockeys."

"I called Mr. Lonergan to see when I could get my check, but no one seems to know where it is. It was cut last week for one thing. After I get that check, my pay comes from a different account and they are supposed to mail it to me, but this one is . . . lost in the ozone so to speak. Someone's supposed to call me back in a while."

"Sucks, but count on the corporate johnies to screw up something that simple." Spike wandered in behind Xander and began to massage his stiff shoulders. Xander stiffened. "Relax, you git. Not gonna . . . jump ya or anything. Just . . . you look all stiff like, thought I'd see if I couldn't make it better. And I'm not up to anything either. So don't go all . . . whatever."

Xander relaxed, by main force of will, but he did it. "Well, every other time you get behind me, you try to bite me. So . . . sorry . . . Mmmmm. That does feel good."

Spike worked on Xander's neck and back for several seconds and felt him really relax at last. He continued to work, enjoying the scent of 'his boy' and the feel of his skin beneath his fingers. Xander's skin was surprisingly soft and smooth. Where he could touch it. Which was mainly the back of his neck and what part of his upper shoulders Spike could reach without moving Xander's t-shirt. He knew better than to disarrange his clothing. Xander would stiffen up like a board. Spike knew he was making progress though. Xander wouldn't have allowed the massage at all only a month ago.

"There you go pet. Feel better?" Spike eased around the desk and settled in one of the guest chairs facing it.

Xander shrugged his shoulders gently and twisted his neck. "Yeah, feels a whole lot better. Where'd you learn that? Wouldn't have thought that a master vampire would know how to give a massage. Shouldn't you be getting them instead?"

Spike snickered softly. "Wasn't always a Master. I was made a Childe, not a minion, but I was subservient to Angelus for over thirty years. And he wasn't a kind master. I learned all sorts of things from him. Massage among them. Then Dru . . . she'd get the most hellacious migraines. Sometimes the massage was all that kept her from running out into the sun. . . . change of subject."

Xander absorbed Spike's admission with a blink then handed him a piece of paper. "I'm working on a translation. It's a bit difficult . . . in fact it's a royal pain in my ass. But I think I'm getting it. It's some sort of code but I've identified two letters so far."

Spike looked at Xander with new respect. "Two letters? Are you sure?"

Xander sighed and shook his head. "No, not really. But they're both vowels, due to the frequency of occurrence. And the language is Germanic. Again . . . I think. It's all sort of up in the air. But I'll keep hacking away at it until I either get somewhere or I have to tell Timmins that I'm stuck."

Spike nodded, this was more proof that Xander was a lot smarter than he let on. He wondered again if he could get away with eating Xander's father, the man obviously wasn't human.

"And how about that scroll you were working on? How's that going?"

Xander shook his head. "Well, I got the title translated for sure. And part of the first page or so. Only they're not really pages since it's a scroll. They're actually panels. And it's a direct copy of something older. And probably written on clay tablets. I've found a web site that has a library of tablets photographed and posted up. Interesting and really weird. It seems to be some sort of . . . commentary on the proper etiquette at . . . well, a vampire court."

Spike quirked his scared eyebrow at Xander. "Etiquette at court? What year?"

Xander shrugged, shuffled papers and read one. "Around 600AD? No, sorry, that's when the scroll was written. The tablets were inscribed at the time of Hammurabi, or Hammurapi. What you call him depends on which bible you read or which expert you like. Not that you'd like any of them much. Dry bunch of assholes. So . . . um . . . 2000BC or there abouts. Um . . .court of a vampire lord whose name I haven't found out yet. But one thing I do know. He's really hooked on disemboweling. And may I just say with real emphasis. Eeeewwww! And also. Ick."

Spike cracked up, Xander had gone from sounding like Giles to sounding like Willow in a split second. "Yeah, I can see where you'd think that. But think about this. If a vampire court gets out of hand . . . how many people die a true death?"

Xander nodded. "I have thought about that. Did some research. The last time one got out of hand. And I think you said something about it. An entire town disappeared off the map. Some . . . eight thousand people. Real big city for the time. And ick again. Are we repeating ourselves for some reason other than that I'm an idiot?"

Spike valiantly squashed the urge to smack Xander. "No, just . . . it don't hurt to go over stuff once in a while. When you get that scroll translated, I want a copy."

Xander flapped his hand at Spike. "Ok, ok. Repeat-o-boy. When I'm done, you'll be the first to know. I just hope you can read short hand. Now. If you don't want anything else. I'll get to work."

"No, I don't want anything, you single-minded git." Spike snorted, who'd have thought that Xander Harris the idiot donut boy would be so fixated on translating a several thousand year old scroll. Ancient Sumerian/Babylonian vampire court etiquette, no less. He levered himself out of the chair, stretched and cautioned Xander not to strain his eyes then left.

Xander sighed and looked at the scroll again, or rather the copies. It was driving him crazy and he was sure he was missing something. So he decided to go over everything in his mind again. One, it was a copy of a set of clay tablets. Two, it was in a demon form of ancient Babylonian. Three, it was really, really old. Xander bit at his lip. He'd figure this thing out if it killed him, pulling a pad of paper closer he started working again.

---

Spike retreated to his own office and sat at his desk. He finally realized he was brooding, muttered, "Broodin' like the bloody poofter isn't gonna get me anywhere. Suck it up, Spike. Get on with it." He called Timmins to him and issued orders. Timmins just nodded and left.

Spike picked up a manila folder and read the report from one of his lieutenants. It was nice to have them again. Spike realized that for years he'd been trying to control every single thing in his courts himself, now he delegated a lot of responsibilities. Sunsu was wise and so was De Medici.

After finishing with his paper work, Spike wandered down to the stable to have a snack. He called on one of the men who was in charge of keeping track of who was ready and available. He made sure to keep excellent records. He didn't want any of his 'cattle' to be addicted to the bite or die because he over bled them. He took the time to gaze around the area and realized that the walls, which Xander held in contempt were actually in danger of collapsing if anyone got too rough with them.

"Have to make sure Xander sets this up proper . . . hey." Spike skipped aside as someone bumped into the wall from the other side, making it slap into his shoulder. "Take it easy over there. Ya wanna knock that shite down?" a muffled apology was offered. Spike started to go around to have a few words with whoever it was but was distracted by his snack calling him to the 'feeding' room.

He went into the room and carefully took his meal. He was always careful to be courteous and thank them; besides not hurting them. He'd always been told that the blood was sweeter spiced by fear and pain. That was a great big wrong. In capitol letters. The blood was actually sweeter when the subject was relaxed. Adrenalin had a salty, sour tang that he realized wasn't that pleasant. Especially after you had sweet, warm blood willingly given. He wondered where the idea that the other was better had come from. 'Bloody hell, research time for William. Fuck.'

Spike carefully laved the puncture marks on the woman's inner elbow with his tongue. "Thank you, missus. That was very nice. You see that you eat right now." Spike got up and walked out the door signaling to the attendant, who had been dinner three days ago, to attend the woman.

He stopped by the desk by the door and addressed the woman keeping records there. "I want everyone out of the dormitories as soon as Young Master Harris gets the first walls up. This is more dangerous than I thought it was. Understand?"

The woman made a squeaking noise and nodded. Spike left mumbling under his breath about the state of things, when a Master vampire such as himself had to see to minor domestic details like building proper walls.

---

Xander closed his notebook in frustration. His eyes were beginning to vibrate and ache. He decided to finish the last of his preparations to redo the stable dormitories. He thought changing the open room into singles was a better idea than trying to do something with the mess already there. If he divided one dorm into two, he could do half the rooms then move people into them. Then he'd divide the last half into half and when he finished that go on to finish the last quarter. He wondered if he would have any help on this. He wasn't too sure about having minions that close to humans they weren't allowed to touch.

He got up and fidgeted with his desk for a moment then he called Timmins. Timmins entered and Xander asked him for a guard so he could go to the stable level. Timmins just nodded and walked out to call for a guard. Xander picked up a small spiral notebook and a pen, sticking them into a thigh pocket he rummaged in a drawer for a tape measure. He looked up in time to see his guard.

"Hey, Bud, how are you. Been a while."

Bud grinned at Xander. "Been busy. Master Spike is still trying to get his court in check. The demons are no problem, except for the whole 'show us your pet' thing. But the minions and fledges are a real pain in the ass. I say stake a few of them, but will Master Spike? Hell no. He says he isn't going to fall into the same trap as old Heinrich." Xander made a face at Bud. "The old master. The Slayer did for him a couple of year ago, I think."

Xander remembered Heinrich well enough. "Why do you call him the Old Master? And I do remember him. Buffy ground his bones. Neat."

Bud blinked. "Well, well. You were there? What happened? I thought there was some sort of prophecy? Slayer died or something."

"Sort of. She died, just like the prophecy. But I gave her mouth-to-mouth and brought her back. She staked him good but he came back so she staked him again and crushed his bones to dust." Xander managed to look amazed and proud at the same time. "I helped."

"Well, damn." Bud gave him a look of dawning respect. "Ok, so what are we doing?"

"I need to go to the stable level and take some measurements so I can finish my materials list. Take me down?" Bud nodded and led the way.

---

Xander finished his measurements, wrote his notes and did his figures. He settled in a squat to finish his list of materials. When he did, he found himself looking through a vent right into the feeding room. Spike was feeding from a relaxed looking woman, gently suckling from her arm. The expression of ecstasy on Spike's face startled Xander. And made him feel a little jealous. He shook it off and returned to his work. But he did hear Spike thank the woman. He shook his head slightly. What was up with that?

He couldn't equate Spike's tenderness with one of the four Scourges of Europe. It was actually a bit unnerving. Xander decided all the thinking was making his head ache so he flipped his notebook shut.

"Ok. All done. I have to work this up into a requisition for Spike. Or Timmins. I'd like to get started as soon as possible. I'm afraid that one of these walls will fall on someone. Come on."

Xander headed for the stairs and ran right into Spike.

"Xandpet. What's going on? What are you doing down here? And . . ."

Xander held up a hand. "And where's my guard?" Xander pointed to Bud. "Right there. Bud."

Bud bowed to Spike carefully, giving him his full name and waiting until Spike acknowledged him. Then he straightened. Spike said something in a language that Xander didn't understand but Bud laughed and walked away waiving at Xander in a friendly way.

Xander waved back and then turned to Spike. "I need these materials and soon. Those walls are . . . "

"Yeah, they are. One of them nearly fell tonight . . . right on me. How soon can you get started on the work?" Spike tapped a cigaretteout of his pack and lit it. He blew out a plume of smoke and then popped his jaw, forming a perfect ring of smoke.

"I have a requisition right here for the last of the materials. Timmins can order them tonight. I'll get my heavy duty gun when I get my check. It won't take but a few minutes to drop by the site and get it. I can start then. I don't think even Timmins can get materials delivered before Friday. Ok?"

Spike smiled at Xander, surprising him because it was a simple smile without snark or sarcasm. "Sure. You're the expert. I'm finally learning to delegate things to experts. You tell me what you can and can't do. I'll tell you if it's good enough or I have to find someone else. How's that?"

Xander blinked for a moment. "You're trusting me? I mean, really?"

Spike just nodded. "Yeah. So. Timmins will order the stuff an' you'll start Friday after you pick up your . . . gun? Didn't know you had one."

Xander gave Spike a disgusted look. "Not that kind of gun. I can't afford the ammunition to practice. It's a heavy duty nail gun. I need it to set the base plates. Concrete floors are a bitch."

Spike listened as Xander explained that regular nails just split and chipped concrete so he had to use special nails. The gun had to be more powerful too as the concrete was so much harder than wood. He wondered if Xander realized that he knew so much about something. Spike wasn't experienced in construction but he knew a real expert when he heard one.

"Hate to interrupt this interestin' lecture on the properties of nails. But you're going to be late to your lesson with Master Chen if you don't get a wiggle on. Not a good idea, he's old school and has asked my permission to discipline you proper. I gave it." Spike knew Chen wouldn't damage Xander and, being a vampire didn't see that much wrong with corporal punishment as long as it wasn't carried too far. Xander made an eeping sound and scurried away. Spike watched his tight rear end with a great deal of enjoyment.

---

Xander was just in time for his training period. Master Chen, however wasn't best pleased with him. "You were very nearly late. What were you doing that was so important that you would be late?"

Xander didn't make any excuses. He knew better. Master Chen wasn't unreasonable so if he was upfront with him he probably would avoid punishment.

"I was finishing the measurement of the stable level. I have to build the walls myself." At Master Chen's expression Xander shrugged. "Would you trust a bunch of minions around that stable?Yummy treats just standing around like that?"

"Frankly, no. so you avoid punishment this time. Don't be nearly late again. Now. We start with a new form."

Xander settled into his training routine. He was learning faster and faster. As he built more skills, Master Chen moved him along faster. He was learning down and dirty sword techniques right now.

"Take this sword. I have chosen it for your height and strength. I'll also teach you how to use a gladius. A short roman sword. This wakazashi will give you an advantage with your longer reach, but the gladius is easier to hide. So . . . we start."

Xander spent the next hour practicing sword work. The simple forms were easy to remember, but much harder to actually do right. Simple didn't always mean easy.

Master Chen watched Xander carefully. He wasn't about to let Xander hurt himself or do any of the forms wrong.

Xander had strong wrists and calloused palms from working construction for so long. But right now he felt like his wrists were made of noodles and his palms stung. He really wanted to stop exercising but he wasn't about to give up. His stubborn nature wouldn't let him. So he continued much longer than he should have.

Master Chen had stepped out of the room for a few moments, cautioning Xander to stop at fifty repetitions of the form. Xander had continued to one hundred and he felt it.

He was standing at the water cooler letting the cold water run over the palm of his left hand. He'd almost blistered it and it stung something awful.

"What are you doing?" Master Chen looked at Xander's hand. "You went too far. Didn't I tell you fifty reps and then rest?"

Xander nodded his head miserably. "Yes. But I thought . . ."

"No, you didn't or you would have obeyed me. Now you're in for a punishment. And not extra forms this time."

Xander hung his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I just want to be good. I mean . . . well, you know what I mean."

"Yes, you want to excel. I understand that. But you won't excel if you over do. Now. Kneel."

Xander knelt, expecting some sort of beating, but Master Chen had other ideas. He pulled Xander's hands behind him and tied them together with a string. "You will stay there until I tell you you may rise. And you will repeat, 'I will not disobey my master' until I let you up."

Xander shuddered once then nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm really sorry." Xander began the required recitations of the 'mantra' speaking softly but distinctly.

Master Chen sighed, shook his head and retreated to his zafu to watch Xander. Xander realized that all he had to do was tug a bit and the string would break but he was also well aware that this part of his punishment was to teach him self control. No doubt he needed that. Xander continued his soft chant while Master Chen counted. When Xander reached one hundred repetitions he told him to stop.

Xander started to stand up but Master Chen asked him what he thought he was doing. Xander dropped back to his knees. "Nothing. But . . . I need to be in my office pretty soon. Someone's supposed to call me about my check. I'd really like to get it before it disappears into the wilds of corporate paper work again."

"I'll let you go in a moment. Do you understand why I punished you?"

Xander shook his head. "Not really. I figured that I'd do a few extra and maybe improve quicker."

Bruce nodded. "I see. But what you don't understand is that when you're breaking a bad habit, getting so tired you can't think is good. You just do what you're told. But when you're learning new forms you need to be alert, aware and concentrating on what you're doing. Or you'll do the forms wrong and have bad habits to break again. You will do exactly the number of repeats I tell you to do and not one more or less. Do you understand now?"

Xander bowed keeping his head up, eyes on his Sensei. "Yes, Sensei, I do. I'm sorry I disobeyed you."

Xander was more used to being beaten within an inch of his life for leaving the butter out than he was having things explained to him. He straightened and vowed not to disappoint Master Chen again.

"Well, you only wanted to improve yourself. So it's all to the good. You've learned your lesson at a small cost. You may free yourself . . ." Master Chen stretched. "I'm going to get some tea. I'd advise a shower before you go anywhere."

Xander pulled his gi jacket off and pulled his t-shirt up to sniff at it. "Eeewww! Now that's just plan gross. Stinky Xander. Peee euuu."

Xander slung his gi over his shoulder and headed for his quarters. He'd take a shower, check for messages about his check and settle for some tv. He was still having trouble believing that he had a wide screen with surround sound and the latest and best accessories. He thought 'I'll call Willow and tell her about it.' then he firmed his resolve, they'd been the ones to shut him out, they'd have to be the ones to invite him back in. And he was really pissed at Giles. All he'd have had to do was pay a little attention to Willow and her penchant for bad mojo. He entered his quarters, tossed his gi jacket and trousers into the hamper, followed by his shorts and t-shirt.

He turned the shower on and stuck his hand into the flow of water, grimacing as it flowed cold. He wondered if Spike would have a fit if he put in a secondary heater so he could have hot water faster. Then decided that he'd just ask. Spike probably would just snark something like 'ya stupid git, wot difference is it ta me whot ya do.' Xander mouthed the phrase again trying to get the accent right.

---

When he was done with his shower, Xander rummaged in his closet for something to wear. He decided on a new pair of black jeans and a dark green t-shirt. They were a little too tight but Spike had flatly told him that if his clothing was too loose it was going in the rag bag. He claimed that it was dangerous to wear baggy clothing at a construction site, a fact that several of Xander's co-workers had seconded. Xander looked for his boots and couldn't find them.

"Timmins! Hey." Timmins stuck his head in the door with an inquiring sound. "Where's my boots? I have to go find my check so I'd really like them, just in case."

"Sorry, sir, I tried to clean them but they were so dirty and worn that Master Spike told me to toss them. He said that I should get you new. I put it off when I found out that you were on leave . . . don't you have a pair of . . . of . . . cowboy boots?"

Xander remembered the western style boots with the diamond cut steel toe caps that he'd rescued from his father's greed. "Yeah, now all I have to do is find them." He rummaged in the closet again and found them placed neatly on the floor. He picked them up and admired them. "Timmins, you knew I had those. There's no way I could have polished them this nice. Thanks"

Xander finished dressing and went to his office. He got there just in time to answer the phone.

"Harris here."

Mr. Harris. This is Lily Jones from the accounting office. I was told you are looking for your check. It was sent to the site last week by mistake. No one has sent it back to us, so I assume that it's still there. You'll have to go down after six to look for it. If you go much before the office help will be too busy to look for it. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience but it can't be helped. 

Xander bit at his lip, he was sure something was off but he wasn't sure what. 'That's ok. Do you know for sure where it is? Or do I have to go to every office trailer on the site?'

I know just where it is. It's at the time clock trailer. Just where it's supposed to be picked up at. You go there and ask the clerk for it. Oh, boss want's me, gotta scramble. 

Xander eyed the phone receiver for a second and wondered just what was off. Unable to figure it out he hung up the phone and glanced at the clock on his desk. It was just after four. He decided to find something fun to read on the internet until he had to leave.

He found an X-men fic to read and read until he heard a knock on the door frame. He looked up to see Spike standing in the door.

"Hey, Hi! What's up? I was just reading." Xander shut his monitor off and stood up.

"Heard ya had a' appointment to get your check. I'm goin'." Spike's flat declaration left no room for argument, not that Xander wanted to.

"That's good." Xander rubbed at his forehead. "Call me paranoid but something wasn't right about that call. I can't quite put my finger on it but . . . well, it creeped me a little."

Spike stuck a cigarettein his mouth, lit it and shrugged. "Not paranoid. Maybe jumpin' at shadows, but I'm comin' whether ya like it or not. So now that we're both happy. When we takin' off?"

Xander fiddled with his letter opener. "Need to be there after six because of book keeping having to be done first. My check is with the . . . clerk . . . at . . . now that _is_ odd." Xander brushed away the feeling. "Never mind. They've changed protocol or whatever they call it. My check got sent to the clock in office back in the back of the site. I have to go there to get it."

Spike wondered what Xander had been about to say then shrugged it off as unimportant, if it was important the whelp would have finished the thought.

"Ok. I'm gonna see if I can't take care of some of the stuff my lieutenants couldn't do. Bloody fledges. I'd gut the bunch of 'em, but healin' 'em is a right pain in my arse. See you . . . when?"

Xander figured silently for a second. "About quarter after five. That gives us time to get there without driving like a mad man. And the sun sets at about five thirty, so, with my windows you should be safe from bursting into flames. See you then." Xander sat back down at his desk and pulled a handful of notes onto the blotter. He decided to just go over them to refresh his memory.

Spike ambled out calling over his shoulder. "Come get me when you're ready to go."

---

Xander reread his notes for the second time, hoping something would click. It didn't, but the phone rang.

When he answered it, all he heard was some heavy breathing and a funny click. He hung up the phone muttering 'perv'. He put his notes away and glanced at the clock. It was getting on for four and he wanted something to eat before he left.

Xander wandered into the kitchen just in time to see Timmins making a sandwich. He reached over the vampires shoulder and snitched a bit of pepperoni.

"Mmmm. That sandwich looks great. Make me one too?"

Timmins let Xander have his tidbit. "It's for you. I thought that you would be hungry. If you're going to leave soon, you should eat. I also have ice cream. But you have to eat the salad first."

Xander pulled a face at Timmins. "Salad's ok, if you're a rabbit. But a man needs manly food. And I'm a manly man." Xander grinned at Timmins this was one of those private jokes that Xander had never had before.

"Oh, yes sir, you're quite the manly man. And here's your sandwich, an apple and the salad. If you eat it all, you can have ice cream. Now . . . I have to do laundry so if you want something you'll have to shout." Timmins left the room and shut the door with a snap.

Xander wolfed the sandwich and salad, nibbled the apple and then dug the ice cream out of the fridge. He found a spoon and dug into the tub, ignoring the fact that Timmins would scold him, telling him it was unsanitary. Who else was going to eat it anyway?

After he was done eating, Xander went to Spike's office. Spike was snarling at someone. "Don't threaten me. I don't care. Not havin' 'em scared or hurt. 'E 'as to come to court, I know. But I'm not havin' every Tom, Dickless and Harryballs feelin' him up. Hear me? If I lose control of my court the High Master'll have my guts for garters, but so what? If he rebels because I scare him, it'll be the same thing. Only he'll be dead. So gimme a break. I'm workin' on it. . . . now get the hell out. Tell the High Master I got it under control. Or not."

Xander heard a slam from behind the door he was just about to knock on. Then another voice, quite calm and rather bored sounding said, "Far be it from me to threaten you. I like my head on my body. I'm just the messenger."

"I'm well aware that you're overly fond of that thrall. But if you don't get things under complete control soon. Things are going to take a turn for the worse. You've got control of most of the older vampires and the demons are falling into line too. But there are a few who insist that you can't control your court if you can't even get your thrall to submit to being shown. I'd suggest falling back on older traditions one's that pre date most of these fools memories. Do some research. . ." there was a soft smacking sound. "I have other things to do besides hold your hand. Get things done. The High Master is losing patience. Not a good thing. Good-bye"

The door popped open to an empty corridor, Spike could have sworn he heard someone there. But he said good-bye to the messenger and went back into his office.

Xander leaned on the wall of the corridor around the corner from Spike's office and thought furiously.

It didn't take him long to decide, he chased the demon messenger down and asked him a bunch of very intrusive questions and got some answers that firmed his resolution to steel. He thanked the being for telling him the truth of his situation. Then assured him that every thing would work out.

"Um . . . before you go. Could you tell me who Heinrich is . . . or was?"

The demon shrugged. "Heinrich bar Aurelius. Eighth High Master of the house." Xander looked confused so the demon explained that Heinrich was 'the' master of the house as opposed to being 'a' master of the house. "When he was dusted the . . . er . . . crown, for lack of a better word, was passed to the next able high master who is Angelus. But he doesn't want it. We're having real trouble keeping the Hellmouth from opening. Too many fools who don't understand that if it opens the entire west coast is . . . gone. Every living thing from California to the rocky mountains will die . . . that answer enough?"

Xander felt all the blood run from his head into his . . . somewhere not his head. "Yeah. And Spike will have an easier time of it if this thrall . . . submits? How?"

"All the fool has to do is wear the appropriate . . . costume . . . and sit at Master Spike's feet during court. Not that big a deal, but Master Spike seems to think that the idiot is too tender to submit to a pet harness and an hour sitting on a cold floor. It's not as if he can't give the boy a cushion or something. All he has to do is show the trembling flower, not let every ass and idiot abuse the boy, like some do. That's not showing control of a court that's pandering to its prurient demands. A soother for a cranky child. Master Spike is endangering everything to coddle an ape. I just hope we all don't regret it." The demon glanced at his watch. "I'm sorry. I don't tend to rant like that, but this situation has gotten me all upset. Did that answer your questions?"

Xander squared his shoulders. "Yes, thank you, sir. Excuse me. But . . . um . . . is there any reading on the subject of vampire court . . . etiquette . . . well, shit. Sorry, sorry language."

But the demon just shook his head. "There are some texts, but none of them translated into anything useful. There was a journal of The Master's, but it disappeared eighty years ago or there abouts. Now I really must go. Thank you for your interest. Please use whatever influence you have with Master Spike to see if you can't convince him to put that boy on display as soon as possible. It might be the only way to avoid the kind of rebellion we really can't cope with just now."

Xander nodded his head and said he'd see what he could do.

---

Xander tapped at Spike's door right on time. He'd found out that the snarky vampire hated it when he was late. Of all the things Xander thought would irritate Spike being late was way down on the list.

"You ready? We should get on our way if you are."

Spike looked up from the parchment he was reading. The look on his face told Xander that he wasn't pleased by whatever he was reading. Xander decided to get a look at the missive as soon as he could.

It wouldn't be that hard, Spike just left things lying about like no one would dare touch them. Xander considered that thought for a moment then realized that most people wouldn't dare snoop Spike's desk. The consequences could be unpleasant to say the least. Xander decided he still had to see the letter. The worst Spike would do to him was . . . what? Spank him. Xander sighed

"What's that great heaving sigh for? Come on. Let's get going."

Spike picked his duster off the hall tree by the door and led the way to the garage, smoking as he went.

They got into Xander's truck, with a nasty glare from Arnold. Xander gave him his blandest look and thought, 'You could never do what I'm going to have to do. You'd chicken out. Tosser'

"Spike?"

"Mmm?"

"What the hell is a tosser?"

Spike turned his head to look at Xander for a long second. "Where the hell did you hear that?"

"You say it all the time. And prat. What's that?"

"Tosser just means they're worthless. A thing to be tossed out. Ok? And prat means a fool or idiot. And I don't say it all the time sometimes I call 'em a berk. So any other questions?"

Xander maneuvered the truck out of the garage and into the parking lot. He eyed the pile of covered lumpy objects and realized that it was part of his materials.

"Wow. Already? I don't believe this. I figured it'd be at least a week. I'll have to move that stuff down tomorrow and get started."

Spike realized he was smoking in Xander's truck swore and put down the window. "Tell me when I'm smokin' in your face, will ya? I don't want you getting cancer or summat." He flicked his butt out the window and left it down. The air was cool and sweet and it was dark enough that he didn't have to worry about catching fire. "I thought you didn't want that stuff until next week. If you want it now, I'll have it moved tonight and you can start work tomorrow. I figured you were busy trainin' and workin' on that translation."

Xander shrugged as he guided his truck into traffic. "I am. But those people deserve better than they have. I can change my schedule a little. Workout, breakfast, translate, lunch, build stuff, workout, dinner. And all evening to mess around with you . . . " Xander's eyes dilated, "I mean . . . not mess around in mess around like mess . . . I mean . . . like men mess around . . . watching foot ball and that, Manchester United and like that mess around, not the other. Which I figure we'll get around to sometime or other but later not sooner. Ok. And shutting up now."

Spike nearly went into convulsions trying not to laugh. "Relax, pet. I swear the first thing I'm gonna buy you is a gag." Xander muttered, 'please'. Spike went on, ignoring him. "And . . . vampire here. We probably will get it on sooner or later. But I'm not in a rush. Got plenty of time, don't I. And if you really get difficult, I will compel you. But don't worry about that right now. Get used to the idea. Ok? Now . . . where are we going?"

Xander gratefully accepted the change of subject and added another thing to his list of worries.

"To the job site. I told you they sent my check to the trailer where they keep the time clock. Why it's there, I don't know. But there you are. And there it is. So we go get it."

Spike nodded. The boy was worried about something, he could smell it. But with Xander you never knew if he was worried about being dismembered or having bad breath or something else. So he decided to wait until whatever it was broke surface in the idiot's conscious and spilled out his babbling mouth. Spike thought about that for a second and realized that Xander didn't babble nearly as much as he used to.

---

Xander obviously thought that silence was the better part of common sense as he didn't say another word until they reached the job site. Then he pointed out things as he drove to the back side of the lot. He pointed out the dome he'd saved and the place the crew had been storing the cored bundles of lumber. Spike looked at the bundles of lumber and didn't see much, not that he was really interested. Then he turned around and got a good look at the dome. And flipped out.

"Bloody hell! Pet, that dome is . . . over seventy feet high if it's an inch. And you climbed to the top and . . . what, you bloody idiot. That dome . . . nothing is worth your life. You could have fallen, you did get hurt. Prat. You've got bollox the size of . . . I'm not sure what. If I ever hear of you puttin' your life at risk for nothin' like that again. I'll . . . I'll take my belt to you sure."

Xander put on the brakes. "Spike, if you ever hit me with a belt, I'll run." Spike started to say something. But Xander turned a look of such cold determination on him that he shut up. "I mean it. And I don't want to talk about it. At all. Ever." Spike decided to keep his mouth shut until he found out more.

Xander pointed to a trailer ahead of them. "There's the trailer. And a light is on. I'll pull right up to the trailer, run in and get my check. No . . . I better get my nail gun first. That clerk is sure to want to jabber on forever and I'll have trouble finding the locker if they turn off the site lights before I go in." Spike made a soft sound in his throat. "There's lights in the locker area but they only turn them on until everyone is out of the area. Costs a fortune to run them. So gun first, then check."

Spike nodded. "Ok, pet. We'll get the gun first. Where is it?"

Xander parked his truck and gestured. "Over there. You don't have to come with me if you don't want. Why don't you stay here and have a smoke? Um . . . By the way, thanks for not smoking around me. I really hate the smell. Smells like my dad and Uncle Rory. And . . . bad memories there." He strode away, calling over his shoulder. "I won't be long."

Xander disappeared from Spike's sight, walking quickly into the depths of the half-completed building.

As Xander walked away, Spike suddenly got a cold chill down his back. Something wasn't right. He decided he'd better follow the whelp and keep an eye on him.

Xander opened a steel locker and pulled a plastic tool case from it. He opened the case, checked its contents and then closed it again. He put it on the floor and reached into the locker again.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Our little whistle blowing cock sucker."

Xander stiffened but didn't turn around. "Not in the mood for you guys. Go away."

"Go away, he says. Boys, you hear. We're supposed to go away because he says to." All four of the men laughed at that remark. Spike didn't, all he could see was four humans bent on hurting his boy. He grabbed the nearest man and threw him across the space, then fell to his knees screaming in pain.

Xander didn't give the other three time to do much. One of the first things Bruce had taught him was bo-staff. You could find one of those almost anywhere. A broom stick, a curtain rod or, in this cast a closet rod.

Xander snatched it up and took a defensive stance, waiting for someone to do something. He wasn't going to attack, he was in the most advantageous position he could have found. He was backed up into a narrow void between two half finished walls. It was about eight feet deep and twelve feet wide, the lockers were in the back of it. It's size and shape made it very defensible, they could only come at him one at a time and they had no chance of flanking him. So he waited. He was worried about Spike but knew that his scream was only the effect of the chip firing.

"We'll get you boy. Come out and make it easier on . . ."

"You to break my knees. Don't think so. You want me? Come and get me."

The man Spike had thrown groaned, distracting another man. Xander darted out of his refuge and cracked the man over the head with his bo. The man went down like a pole axed ox, but Xander knew he only had a few seconds before he was back on his feet. Guys like these had hard heads. Xander ducked back into his hole before the other two could react.

Spike groaned softly attracting the thugs attention. "If you don't come out of there, your friend will suffer for it." Spike managed to make it to his hands and knees. He shook his head, "Don't do it, pet. They'll do for you sure. I'll be ok. You stay. . ." The nearest man kicked Spike in the side knocking him back to the floor. Xander snarled, "Dumb ass. Stay down."

Spike stubbornly struggled to get to his feet again. He had to help Xander somehow. He succeeded in distracting the man who'd kicked him long enough for Xander to dart out of his spot again. This time he managed to get in a good hit to a knee. The man who'd been watching him squealed and fell down on one knee clutching the other with both hands. Xander took the opportunity to crack the first man in the temple, knocking him out again. "Brain damage, much. I so hope."

Spike wrapped his arms around the legs of the man who'd kicked him. He whimpered in pain as the chip fired again. And again. Xander saw that Spike was nearly unconscious but still fighting to help. He ducked under a rather wild swing and countered with a sharp jab to the rib cage that had his attacker on the ground making wheezing sounds. He spared another glance around and realized that the only one still on his feet was the man Spike had hold of. Xander solved that little problem by cracking the man across the small of the back. He yelped and fell. Another look around told Xander that he could take time to check on Spike.

A quick check proved that Spike was only suffering from the effects of the chip. Xander helped him up to lean against the nearby studded out wall. Spike pressed his hand to his forehead and moaned., "Soddin' chip. Bloody hell."

"Take it easy for a few. I've got some clean up to take care of. Um . . . kinky question, but . . . do you have any handcuffs?"

Spike managed a half-hearted smirk. "Cuffs? Now what would I want with something like that?"

Xander grinned back, panting slightly. "Who knows? Not me, no sir, don't have a clue. So . . . rope? Wire? Not a damn . . . fuck!" This last exclamation brought about by one of the thugs managing to get to his feet and take a swing at Xander. He snarled and whacked the man with his bo. "So not liking this. I wonder where . . . or who . . . Spike?"

"Not a clue. Called you a whistle blower. I assume that they're from that company you're supposed to testify about. So . . . now what? We need to tie them up or something." Spike heaved himself off the wall and groaned. "Soddin' hell. Well, let's figure out what to do with these prats."

Xander listened to the threats from the leader of the four men, mind wandering. He clicked in when the boss announced. "We'll find out who you love the most and they don't stand a chance. Why don't you be a good little boy and have a memory loss?"

Xander lost his temper. "Well, let me see. Because the one's I love most don't love me back? Because I'm a stubborn ass hole? Or maybe because being threatened just makes me pissed? Pick one, or all of the above. Shut up."

Xander let his gaze drift around the half-finished room looking for some way to tie these guys up. It was fruitless. There was nothing.

"Ok. I've got a few questions for you four and I intend to get some answers. Now . . . Spike are you up to helping me?"

"Sure, pet. Not much I can do to help ya though. Got a hell of a headache. What do you want?" Spike dragged his aching body to its feet again and made it over to Xander.

Xander got an ugly look on his face. "You can't actively hurt a human but how about holding them while someone else does it?"

Spike made a face. "We could try it. Worse that could happen is the chip fires again. Maybe it'll fry my brain completely. Useless berk. Damn Initiative. I'm . . . never mind. Let's deal with what we've got and whinge later."

Xander nodded. "Be back in a sec. Just figure out what you want to know and be ready to ask your questions . . . after I ask mine."

Xander was well aware that someone knocked out was only going to be out for, at most, fifteen seconds; that only if they had a concussion. He had about another five or six minutes where they would be confused enough not to be too much trouble, but he still didn't have time to be nice, or kind. So he did what he could.

He was sure there was rope or wire somewhere. It was a construction site after all. But he didn't have time to search for it. So, he'd make do. First he searched each man for something to tie them up with, frisking them efficiently.

One of the men had a belt on, so he used it to tie his hands behind his back. But the others didn't have belts or even shoe strings.

"Spike, you got any thing to tie these jamokes up with?"

Spike eyed his laceless boots with a sigh. "No. And I'm not wanderin' around lookin' for somethin' either."

Xander shrugged. "Ok. Are you sure you can help me? I mean, if you don't actually do the hurting?"

Spike shrugged back at Xander. "I'll give it a go. What're ya up to?"

"We can't control all four of these idiots and I want some answers. So, they've got to be controlled somehow. Got an idea and it's not nice."

Spike ran his tongue over his teeth then grinned. "If I don't actually do the hurtin' I think I can help. Well just have to see, won't we."

Xander thought about what he was about to do and decided that the men deserved it. He got out his heavy duty nail gun and fitted in a bar of nails. He turned on a compressor and hooked up the air hose. Spike watched all these arrangements with interest.

"Whot's that, pet?"

"You'll see. Will you hold Mr. Wriggles for me?" Xander pointed to the first man to start regaining consciousness. Spike obligingly grabbed the man being very careful not to hurt him.

Xander caught the man by one ankle, put his foot flat on the flooring and put the orifice against the man's foot. He raised the nailer about a foot then smacked it down, hard. The thug jumped and screamed at the loud thud.

Spike blinked at the nail head that rose about half an inch from the top of the man's boot.

"Bloody hell!"

"That ought to keep him in one place for a while. I don't think he can pull it out. There's about half an inch in the floor. Maybe I should set the depth to the stop." Xander fiddled with the gun while the man alternately moaned and screamed. "Will you shut up, you big girl? Or should I nail your tongue to something to keep it from flapping until I want it to?"

Spike was impressed as hell, Xander didn't look anything like the goofy Scooby he was used to. He looked grim and fierce. The man shut up.

Xander nodded to the next man to wake up. Spike wearily crawled to him and positioned his foot for Xander.

"Head hurt? Don't worry. It won't take me long to nail these ass holes up. Then you can rest. I even think I've got some Tylenol in the case there. I'll get it for you in a minute . . . Master."

Spike noticed the hesitation and wondered what the hell the whelp was up to. He'd figured he'd have to do some real Compelling to get him to call him more than Fangless.

The next few seconds were interesting to Spike, Xander nailed each man to the flooring by one foot. The first man had screamed, the next one did too. But the third one just flinched and snarled. The last one tried threatening Xander.

"Ok, so not scared. I'll let you in on a big secret. Vampires really exist, and demons too." The man gave Xander a disgusted look. Spike squeezed him a little. "Yeah, give me the 'are you nuts?' look. Master Spike, will you give our friend a little demonstration. You might just show him your face, if you don't mind."

Spike grinned at Xander, now this was something like. "I don't mind a bit, pet. Can I bite him? Doesn't look nummy, but I'm a bit peckish. Could do with a little nosh."

Xander shook his head. "You'll get indigestion. Just show him."

So Spike gave a very put upon sigh and vamped right in the man's face. He yelped and cringed back.

"Now, I have some questions I want answered and I'm afraid that you're answering them. So. Question, one. Who sent you and what exactly were you told to do to me? And don't lie. Master Spike will know. He'll smell it."

"What's it to him anyway. I thought . . . well, shit." The man shut up as he realized that, as he'd never been interested in horror movies, he had no idea what vampires did.

Spike shook his head. "Boy's mine. You hurt him. Now, answer the pretty boy's question before he gets testy."

Smartmouth had to pick at that one. "So, what? He get's his panties all in a twist. So what?"

Spike eyed the man for a second. "God, you're a twat. 'E just nailed your buddies feet to the floor, yours too, and you're askin' so what? You're all about in your 'ead is so what. 'E's a bad boy. I'll just eat ya."

Xander felt a swell of pride, Spike had paid him a compliment, backhanded or not.

"Now, answer my question. Or I'll nail something else to the floor. And tell me your name, I can't keep thinking of you as smartmouth."

"Otto. All you need to know. But Mr. Parish sent us to get you to back off, not testify in court about the lumber deal."

"How?"

"Well, breaking your legs was mentioned, as well as beating up your girl friend. But we couldn't find a girl. So legs it was."

Spike snarled softly and then clutched at his head. The chip had fired again. Xander patted Spike on the shoulder and nodded. "Go over there. I'll finish up here and we can leave." Spike just got up and staggered away to lean against the locker.

Xander asked the man another question and got a sneer for his trouble. He grinned in a decidedly non-Xander way. "I ask, you answer, or I get nasty. You see, my reputation as an all round good guy is a bit on the exaggerated side. My daddy taught me lots of stuff. Like how to be a real prick when I want to be. Won't mean a lot to you but I backed Angelus down. Now. Answer my question."

All he got was another sneer and the idiot spit in his face. Xander bashed the man in the head with the gun, knocking him cold for the second time that night.

"Easy there, pet. Won't do ta scramble 'is brains."

Xander nodded. "You're right, but goons like this have hard heads. I'll . . . just. . ." Xander grunted as he straightened the man out. He pulled his arm out to one side and put the gun in the palm of his hand. He raised it preparatory to using the secondary trigger to shoot a nail.

"Wouldn't put a nail there. It'll pull out too easy."

"Well, how do you know that? Or should I ask?"

Spike rummaged around in Xander's case, found the Tylenol and swallowed two, dry. Xander waited impatiently for him to answer.

"Nazis did some experiments on crucifixions, found out that the palm will rip out in no time. The actual crucifixions were carried out by nailing through the radius and ulna got archaeological evidence to prove it . . ." at Xander's rather blank look Spike sighed out a gust of smoke. "Two bones in the fore arm. Nail between them. Put a piece of wood over it and it won't pull out."

Xander nodded his understanding and picked up a piece of waste hard board. He put it over Otto's arm and slammed the gun down shooting a nail right through his arm. "How's that?"

"And I, as a vampire, have to say; good show. As a man, Jesus, you're a regular fiend when you're pissed . . . Hey! Is it really true? Did you really back Peaches down?"

Xander gave Spike a long, slow, insufferably smug look. "Yeah, I did. Right down. Chased him away like a whipped dog."

" 'm speechless, I am. And sorry as hell I missed it."

Otto had been moaning through all this and Xander and Spike both told him to shut up at the same time. He shut.

"Now, I'm going to ask you questions. 'I don't know' is a good answer, but remember, Spike will know if you lie. If you refuse, I'll find something else to nail to the floor. If you really piss me off your pants are coming down. You got me?"

Otto did and was now very cooperative. The other three men, strangely, or not so strangely, silent, now tried to get him to be silent too. Otto snarled to them, "Well, shit. It's not your nuts the guy is threatening to nail to the floor. Shut the fuck up yourselves . . ." he turned to Xander. "Why don't you ask them some questions and leave me alone?"

"Because you're doing so damn good. They're not all softened up, you are. But I could let Spike try out the gun on one or two of them. Nailing their flapping tongues to the floor ought to amuse him." Somehow this seemed to make flapping of tongues not so attractive anymore.

Xander got his answers and Spike did too.

It seemed that this particular fraud was a 'kick back' sort of arrangement. The lumber yard had been doing it for years, without trouble. Xander had blown the whistle on them to a company from out of town, one that didn't understand long standing arrangements. And wasn't in the mood to deal with them. Xander's testimony was going to break a long standing and very lucrative arrangement. The boss wanted Xander silent and he didn't care how it happened. They'd never expected Xander to be so good with any kind of weapon. The boss had described him as a 'wimp.'

"And who's the boss? And don't sit there and smirk at me. Who?"

"Clive Chase." The man seemed to think that this would send Xander into some sort of panic.

"Clive? Cordelia Chase's uncle?"

"Yeah, so now you know who you're dealing with, you should cut us loose and run for cover. He won't hold this little . . . accident against you. If you apologize real nice."

"Not a chance in the world. I dated Queen C. for a while. And, you know? I really resent the fact that I had to pay for her Prom gown, because Uncle got the whole family in a mess with the IRS but he didn't lose a thing. Funny, huh? Not. So, now you tell me that. I'm sure I'm going to put his tit in a wringer." Xander stood up and started taking his gun apart. "Spike, let's go."

Spike shoved away from the lockers and kicked the hose aside. "What now, Pet?"

"We go."

Spike started to tell Xander that the men were sure to be fair game for any passing vampire, but Xander was already dialing his phone.

He talked to someone for a moment, said. "Yeah, they're not going anywhere until you get here. Might bring along an industrial nail puller and a medic. Bye." and hung up. "We better not be here when they get here. And, damn, I still haven't gotten my check. See what you can do about that when we get home, will you?"

Spike allowed as how he'd see what he could do.

Xander got his case, put the nail gun away and headed for his truck. Spike followed him, thinking furiously. This, new, ruthless Xander was something to think about.

---

If you're interested, here's what Xander's nail gun looks like.


	12. Chapter 12

Ulterior Motives 12

---

Betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1

---

Xander dumped his stuff in the bed of his truck and climbed in. He didn't insult Spike by offering to help him, he just waited until Spike levered himself into the passenger's seat. As Spike settled in, Xander drove away.

Spike sighed, "Ok, pet. What the hell was that? Not that I'm complainin', mind. But . . . inventive . . . I'm not even sure where to start."

Xander shrugged, paying more attention to driving than speaking for once. "I'm ruthless when I have to be. I do what I need to. Learned that from dear ol' daddy. They're not dead . . . yet. I didn't kill them. So what's the prob?"

Spike eyed Xander, wondering how he'd managed to miss the hard, cold, steely core of the man. "No prob here. I just was surprised. And now I'm wonderin' why. So, I could use a nap. That soddin' chip is gonna kill me yet."

"Yeah? And what was that about? You got at least six shocks from that thing because you wouldn't lay down. Never learn, do you?"

Spike raised his head and glared at Xander. "You don't get it, do you?" Xander shook his head. "You're mine. I take care of what's mine, or at least I try to. That soddin' bloody be-damned chip keeps me from it. I can't protect you from the weakest of attackers. Bloglut demons, Fyarl, Nix'coth, I'm good. Great even, but soddin' humans and I'm helpless." Spike taught Xander a few British curses and shut up.

Xander drove, thin lipped and grim.

---

Xander pulled into the garage and parked. He tossed the keys on the floor, let Arnold pick them up and put the truck away.

Spike followed Xander into the mansion, groaning softly. The Tylenol hadn't done much good for his aching head and Xander's unaccustomed silence was wearing on his nerves.

"Ok, pet. What's got you in such a lather?"

Xander turned to Spike and looked him over like he was searching for something. Spike just raised a weary eyebrow and waited.

"You . . . if I . . . damn . . . Spike?" Spike waited a second while Xander tried to organize his thoughts.

"Just spit it out, before it chokes you."

"Ok. If I do what you want . . . if I let you put me on some sort of display . . . no one touches me but you . . . and maybe Timmins. And you never make fun of me. Ever. Or throw it in my face."

Spike gave Xander a level look. "If you do what I want, I'll never throw it in your face. And no one touches what is mine unless I give them express permission. Timmins has it. And, you'll notice that I'm being very generous here, you get to pick the harness. How's that?"

Xander just nodded. "Ok. I won't let you down if you don't let me down. Come on. You need to feed and I have to do some research. Move it."

Spike sighed again and followed Xander to his quarters where Xander helped him get undressed then undressed himself. Spike was shocked when Xander crawled into the bed with him, but he kept his smart mouth under iron control. He knew better than to say anything at all.

Xander groaned. "I should be doing that research but all of a sudden I'm shaking all over."

Spike put his arms around Xander. "I don't need to feed just yet. Why don't we just lay here for a mo'? Kinda cuddle down and recover."

"Sounds good. But then I get up and be research boy. Got it?"

Spike rubbed Xander's arm for a moment. "Sure thing, pet. Just . . . I could do with a few z's myself."

—

Spike waited for a little while. He knew something was going to happen, he just wasn't sure what. As he suspected, Xander started to shake about five minutes later, his adrenalin high fading and leaving him shaky.

"Ok, pet? You don't regret what you did? I think it was beautiful. Thank you."

Xander mumbled. "You're . . . I saw . . . it made me so mad. Why'd you do that?"

"Do what, pet?" Spike stroked Xander's shoulders and back, rubbing his hands up and down, hoping to generate some heat.

"I saw. You were down with a chip zap, but you kept trying to get up and getting zapped again and again. Why?"

Spike snarled deep in his chest. "You're mine. They were trying to hurt you. It's my duty and privilege to protect you." Spike took one hand from Xander's body and pulled viciously at his own hair. "Stupid, soddin' chip. Fuckin' piece of bloody military plastic. I can't even do what a fledge can." Spike pressed his face into the curve between Xander's neck and his shoulder. "But I thought, if I could just get in one good . . . something. I could at least help a bit. Fuckin' fangless loser. You're right to call me Willy Wanna-bite."

Xander, with a clear vision of Spike grimly crawling towards one of his attackers while the chip sent him into convulsion after convulsion dancing in his head, pulled Spike's hand out of his hair and held it.

"Not either. And, need I say, I'm really sorry. No one ever did anything like that for me before. Even if it didn't hurt them like hell. I'm not a nice person. I'm . . . Cordelia said I was one of the most ruthless people she'd ever met, including her dad. I want what's right and good, and I don't care what I have to do to protect people who can't protect themselves. I should have included you in that mission."

Spike was rendered speechless, something that didn't happen often. Xander, the white knight, apologizing and including him on his list of people to be protected?

"Well, call me gobsmacked. Pet, I'm capable of taking care of myself. Unless they're human."

"Yeah, and all some idiot has to do is figure that out and we're all fucked." Xander sighed and settled against Spike. "I'm so tired. Why'm I tired? I didn't do all that much. Go to sleep now."

Xander drifted off with Spike still petting him. He didn't seem to notice that they were both only wearing boxers and Spike wasn't about to wake him and tell him.

---

Xander woke to someone blowing in his ear. He slapped at whoever it was and the sat up in the bed.

"Spike! Damn it! I was having a nice dream and you woke me up."

"What were you dreaming about?"

Xander made a disappointed face then shrugged. "I don't remember." He sighed. "I never remember the good ones, only that I was having one."

"That's too bad, pet. Come on, get up."

Xander's stomach announced its interest in getting up. Xander blushed and crawled out of the bed.

Suddenly he clenched his hands in front of himself and started sidling toward the bathroom.

Spike got a good look at the outline of what he was trying to hide. "Don't bother. I checked you out good a long time ago."

Xander spluttered indignantly. Spike gave him his best innocent face. "Wot? 'M an evil, undead, blood sucking fiend. A little peeping tomery is nothin'. Come on. Brekkers in ten."

Xander managed to get into the bathroom and take care of his business without dying of embarrassment.

Spike went into the kitchen and told Timmins to make Xander some juice. Timmins poured the juice and turned to see Spike bite into the ball of his thumb, like he'd done every day since Xander had come to live with them. Neither one of them noticed Xander standing in the door in nothing but his jeans.

Spike froze, eyeing Xander, waiting for the explosion. Timmins prepared for twin temper tantrums. Neither vampire expected what did happen.

Xander sauntered over to Timmins and took his glass of juice.

"How long has this been going on and why? And can I just say, sneaky much?"

Spike relaxed; if Xander was descending into Snoopy speak, he wasn't too pissed off. "Since you came here, pet. Makes you strong, helps you heal . . . makes you smell like mine. So . . . pissed?"

Xander sipped at his juice. "No, not really." Xander noticed that Spike was still bleeding as he'd forgotten to lick his thumb healed. He reached out and took Spike's hand in his. Giving Spike a sparkling look, Xander licked the blood off. "No sense in wasting it, is there?"

Xander licked once then sucked Spike's thumb into his mouth and suckled it. Spike nearly fell to his knees. This was sudden.

"What are you doin'? Tryin' ta drive me out of my mind?"

Xander gave Spike a long, slow, sultry look. Spike nearly bent him over the kitchen table right then and there.

"No. But you and I both know that you're going to have me sooner or later. I'd rather not tear and bleed. Been there, done that. Didn't like it. I'm not a vampire."

Spike clenched his teeth and bit back a snarl. "I'm not gonna ask. I already know. . . .Pet? I'm not gonna hurt you like that. I don't like rape. That was always the poof's kink. A little BDSM, or D/s, that's more the ticket."

Xander smiled at Spike. "I want a contract with safe words."

Spike opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed and tried again. "Contract . . . safe words. Where the hell did you learn about all this. And what the hell is going on?"

Xander shrugged. "Oxnard. The Fabulous Ladies Night Club. There weren't any ladies there. Never ask again." Xander gave a dramatic shudder. "As to what's up, I had a thing. Woke up and had it. Like an orgasm only not and I didn't say that either. Only one of those penny things. Like a lightning bolt in my head only it didn't hurt. And I made up my mind and I'm not backing down and you can't make me so don't try so can I go now. I've got research to do and I want to do it before I chicken out and if you let me make a fool of myself I'll stake you and then stake your dust and spit on it and I'm going now." Xander took a deep breath and scurried out

Spike stood looking at the open door with a baffled look on his face. A 'penny' thing like a lightning bolt? What was Xander babbling about?

"I think he meant an epiphany." Timmins looked after Xander. "Does he do that a lot? Talk like that, I mean?"

Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Blowing out smoke as he talked, he announced in disgust, "Yeah, he does. Not much around here, but he took lessons from the mistress of the babble fest. Sometimes referred to as Willow-speak. Now . . . I'm going to my office to try to figure out what he was on about. If that . . . garden . . . what the hell was his name? Anyway, if he shows up send him to me."

Timmins searched his memory, but couldn't come up with the name either. "I will." He looked around. Xander had taken his juice with him, but he hadn't eaten a thing. "You should go feed. You look a little peaked. I'll just make up a tray for the young master."

Spike sighed. "Yeah, you do that. I do think I'll go feed. I'm feelin' a little peckish."

---

Spike worried at the apparently abrupt about face until his head ached. He decided that he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was just going to ride the wave of Xander's turnabout and enjoy.

A soft tap at the door alerted Spike to a visitor.

He didn't recognize the vampire who poked his head in the door but before he could snarl at him, he scurried in and knelt at the side of the desk.

"Most honored High Master. My superior has sent me to tell you the garden is ready for your approval. We hope you find it acceptable."

Spike nodded his head. "I'm sure I will. That bloke from Kew seemed to know what he was doing."

The vampire cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Master. He . . . didn't come back from feeding two weeks ago. I've been taking over the construction. I humbly beg your pardon if that is unacceptable. I did read all the notes and followed them exactly. I added a bit of my own ideas, but if you don't like them they are easily changed."

Spike sighed. He'd liked the gardener, even if he couldn't remember his name. "I'll take a look. What's your training? And your name."

"It's Narma, Master. I was trained in Egypt . . . about seven hundred years ago."

Spike nodded. "I see. Gardener? Or herbalist?"

Narma smiled hesitantly. "Both. I do enjoy this so much, Master. The lights don't burn me, so it's almost like being in the sun again. I do miss it."

Spike snarled softly, causing the vampire to cringe. "Stop that. I'm not mad at you. I'm just . . . annoyed in general. Now . . . show me the garden."

Narma led Spike into a large warehouse sized room half filled with planters and hung with an overhead lighting and watering system.

Spike looked around. This was the result of his quick watercolor of what he'd thought of as Granny's Garden.

Starting in the front center of the room there was a fountain. Then several wedge-shaped planters about six inches high, giving the illusion of garden beds. He eyed the depth for a moment.

"Those don't look deep enough. Lavender is a large plant. How's that work?"

Narma smiled happily. "This is a false floor. The beds are almost three feet deep. We built them then built up the floor. Master Xander actually almost caught us. I'm sure he'll rebuild all of it. It's not that well done. We're all gardeners or, as Master Timmins calls them, grunts. We also ran pipes for the fountains and other water features under there."

Spike quirked one eye brow and wondered how sturdy the flooring was. He continued his inspection with interest. The beds were about three feet apart which made the intersections fairly large. They were decorated with urns full of cascading plants, statuary, or small fountains. As Spike walked deeper into the vast room he realized with pleasure that Narma, or someone, had expanded on the small herb garden and turned the front half of the room into several smaller garden 'rooms' by placing lines of small potted trees, potted roses and long planters to divide the large space. One room was filled completely with potted rose plants of all sizes and colors. Another was Japanese style. There was also a water garden with a large koi pond filled with lilies as well as other water plants and fish.

"I'm pleased. You took that simple little garden and turned it into something special. I'm sure Xander will love it. Using his grandmother's small herbal garden as the gateway was brilliant. Good work."

Spike was pleased as well and smiled kindly at Narma. He was remembering things his father had told him when he was small, more than a hundred years ago. Things like, 'praise is cheap, anger expensive' 'butter makes things run smoothly' and 'pinch pennies, lose good will.' He remembered all the times he'd tried so hard to please Angelus and the anger when he got nothing but a kick or a flogging for his trouble. He was determined that his reign would be different; besides, he didn't feel like all that fighting. It was exhausting. Fighting for the joy of it was one thing, fighting because everyone wanted what he had was a 'right pain in me arse'.

"This looks very good. I'm sure that Xander will like it. I'm going to get him now. Call everyone to assemble; he'll want to thank you."

---

Xander opened his laptop and searched for the file. It didn't take him long to find it. It was the only one with a string of numbers in the file name. He immediately started reading.

The first part of it was mostly schematics that didn't mean a thing to Xander. But he grimly continued on deeper into the convoluted military jargon. He was actually glad that his 'stint' as a mock soldier that Halloween had stuck as much as it had. He could actually understand most of the text.

He started searching the internet. Google wasn't much help at first. He had to refine his search quite a bit. Wikipedia was more help, at least it had some decent information on the effects of electromagnetic fields on computers. Xander closed most of the threads he had open and carefully studied the four he still needed. 'Who said I'm stupid? I can too do this,' he wondered.

When Timmins came to stand in the doorway, Xander barely acknowledged him. He just glanced at him and begged. "Timmins, pull me a Milky Way, will you? I need the caffeine. Make it a triple."

Timmins blinked,; Xander wasn't usually so short with him. "Young Master, are you sure? All that sugar and caffeine isn't good for you. Master Spike was specific. . ."

Xander glanced up at Timmins, making Timmins sigh. He recognized that particular mulish expression. "See . . . resolve face. What I'm going to do for Spike, not to mention the world, gets me all the caffeine and sugar I can abuse my system with. Coffee . . . now . . . please." Timmins turned to go but Xander's next words made him turn back. "And I got your journal translated. I had one of the women in the . . . um . . . stable, she's a secretary, type up the translation directly from the shorthand. See if it's ok to get her a workstation or something. It'd be a real help to me if she could do the transcriptions. It gives me a raging headache. Ok?"

Timmins smiled at Xander. "Of course, sir. I'll be happy to get her a station. I'll see if I can't get her a small office down in the stables . . . well, I'll leave you a note to build it. I think it would be good if you built several small offices somewhere down there. There are several people in the stables who have skills we could use."

Xander dragged his attention away from his work long enough to think about that. "And I bet there are a bunch of vamps who have skills we could use. I'll look into finding them some office space too." Xander gave Timmins his best begging puppy eyes. "Coffee? Please?"

Timmins threw up his hands and went to get Xander his coffee.

---

Xander finished his coffee and his research at the same time. He was sure exactly what he had to do. He just wasn't sure he liked it. The journal the Master had written made it plain that the old scroll told the true story of what a vampiric court was supposed to be like. Xander decided that Ol' Batface, as he called the late head of the Aurelian line, was not only a pervert but an excessively brutal one. He wasn't sure how he was going to use his information but he wasn't going to put up with being treated the way the old master treated his human pets. He wasn't a pet, he was a thrall. He decided to do research on thrallness, or was it –dom, but soon gave up.

"My brain hurts. Damn, I want more coffee. Timmins!"

Xander's shout was greeted by Spike ambling into the room.

Spike took one look at Xander's face and announced in no uncertain terms, "No more coffee for you, pet. You're bouncing off the walls as it is. I've got something nice for you. Come see it. Work off some of those caffeine nerves."

Xander clenched his hands into fists so they wouldn't shake. He realized that he had really had more coffee than he should have, especially on an empty stomach.

"Ok, but I better eat something too. I'm all . . . nervy. And, while I'm at it, I got that translation done. I've got a copy of the scroll and Ol' Batface's journal too. You want?"

Spike didn't take a second to realize who 'Ol' Batface' had to be. "You've got one of Heinrich's journals? Yes, I want. 'E nearly ruined Angel. Did ruin Darla. What's in it?"

Xander picked a piece of paper up and eyed it for a moment. "A bunch of ranting about a lover who betrayed him and what he's going to do to all his human pets to get even for it. And the . . ." Xander made air quotes. "New rules for his court. Seems he wanted someone else's human lover and wasn't too particular how he got her. He even refers to the Babylonian scroll here. You should read both of them."

Timmins cleared his throat from where he was standing in the hall. "You bellowed, sir?"

Xander grinned at Timmins. "Yeah, but Spike says no more coffee. I have a list of stuff I need. Will you get it for me? No big rush."

Timmins took the paper from Xander and eyed it for a moment, started to say something then just nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll get it as soon as I can."

Spike just grabbed Xander and hauled him out the door, impatient as usual.

"Come on, pet. I got something special to show ya."

Xander allowed Spike to pull him along, wondering what had 'Mr. Hyper-vamp' so excited.

---

Xander waited as Spike insisted on blindfolding him before leading him into his surprise. Spike said that it was an exercise in trust, Xander thought it was just that Spike wanted to see his face when he saw whatever it was. They were both right.

Spike carefully led Xander into the large conservatory, making sure that he didn't trip on anything. He positioned Xander in front of the gate to the Granny Garden. When he pulled off the blindfold, Xander blinked once or twice then yelped, "Grammy's garden! Oh, man. Thanks, this is great. How'd you do it?"

Spike puffed out his chest and smirked. "I snuck into your house and painted the layout. Had a crew working on this all this time, and they went a little crazy. I hope you like the rest. This is just the entrance."

Xander wandered through the small garden, touching plants and examining the wooden pathway. It was decent, made of precut lumber bolted and screwed together. He could do better but he was very pleased with what he had.

When Xander went through the gate at the back of the Granny Garden, he nearly dropped to his knees. He could see a bit of the garden from where he stood, but the artfully arranged lines of potted plants baffled his eye. He wandered into the garden, looking and smelling and touching. His expression of wonder and delight made Spike swell with pride. None of the Scoobies had ever made Xander look like that. Mostly they had made him look sad.

Xander delighted in the herb garden; he smelled each bush in the rose garden and nearly squealed in delight at the oriental garden with its koi pond, although he would deny that to his dying breath. He was especially thrilled with the smooth transfer from the oriental garden to the orchardarium. As he walked around the koi pond, the gradual shift from oriental to tropical was exquisite. He was in love and said so.

Spike was smiling in a way Xander had never seen before. He wasn't smirking or gloating, just smiling. "You like it, pet? There's a balcony sort of thing over there. It's a walkway into an unused level, but if you stand on the landing you can see the whole garden."

Xander practically dragged Spike towards the stairs. Spike let him as he knew that all the workers responsible for the garden were waiting there for him.

---

Xander stopped when he saw the uneasily shifting line of vampires and demons. He turned to Spike with a puzzled look on his face.

"They're all the people who worked on the gardens. They want to meet you. Just smile, shake hands down the line and say thank you."

Xander turned a terrified look on Spike. "Do . . . what? And . . . who, me? I don't do so good with the speech making. What do I say?"

Spike watched in amusement as Xander fell apart. "Just shake hands with everyone who offers. When you get to the end of the line, the steps will be right there. Go up one or two then just say something nice. Like, say, 'I really like the gardens, thank you all.' Then go on up to the landing."

Xander gulped and nodded. "Oh, ok. I can do that."

Xander managed to shake hands and make his little speech without shaming himself; he even managed a few words with most of the vampires and demons. They were pleased with his compliments. He was pleased with his gardens.

Spike let Xander pull him up the stairs to the landing. Xander spent the next few minutes pointing out all the features that he liked the best. It seemed that he liked the oriental garden, especially the koi pond. And he rhapsodized over the herb garden. The English Cottage garden fascinated him and the formal rose garden with its neatly trimmed boxwood borders brought a smile to his face. The stream that flowed from the koi pond led into a small bog garden then a waterfall and on into a catch basin to be recirculated. Xander had a million questions that Spike couldn't answer.

"Don't know. I'll send for Narma if you're really interested."

Xander turned and hugged Spike, surprising the hell out of him. "Don't worry about it. I'll get with him later and ask my questions. I have some ideas that I'd like to discuss with him . . . there's plenty of room in here that you haven't used yet. Can I have it?"

Spike smiled over Xander's shoulder as he hugged him back. "Sure, pet. Got plenty of room here. Do what you want. Don't forget that you have a workout with Master Chen tomorrow morning, but after that you can send for Narma."

Xander let go of Spike. "Um . . . sorry. But . . . no one has ever done anything this nice for me before. And you say you're the evil undead. Big put-on, if you ask me."

Spike acted indignant, saying, "Oi, evil, undead, blood sucking fiend. Ya said so yourself." But his smile belied his words. "Come on, I want those translations you promised. And I've got to make arrangements for your appearance at court. No argy-bargy about it."

Xander just bowed his head. "Ok. Just tell me when I need to be ready."

Spike was so caught up with the thought of Xander's delight in the gardens, as well as his interest in the translations, that he never thought about Xander's uncharacteristic reply.

---

Xander smirked, a good imitation of Spike's trademark expression. He was going to make his mark at court. He wasn't going to wait for Spike to pick out an outfit for him to wear because he knew what Spike would pick: Some god awful conglomeration of stuff, anything that caught his magpie attention. Xander intended to put forward an image, something he could live with.

He went to Extreme Restraints and started ordering, on Spike's credit card. There was no way he was paying for this shit himself. That thought reminded him that he needed to make sure Spike got his last paycheck for him. His next one would be coming from a different account and he was arranging for electronic deposit.

When he was finished, he settled back in his chair and wondered how he was going to get himself into the harness he'd ordered. Then he remembered that Spike had told Timmins that he was to be his valet. He called Timmins and told him what he needed. Timmins just nodded his head and said, "Of course, I will serve in any way I can. I'm sure Master Spike will be very surprised."

Xander hoped so. He also hoped that Spike didn't fall down laughing.

---

Spike settled down at his desk and eyed the pile of translation with a jaundiced eye. He wasn't all that fond of reading anymore. When he had been human, he'd needed spectacles to see print. He was far sighted, an advantage now that he was a vampire. He sighed, resigned himself to having a headache and started reading.

Spike managed to get through most of Heinrich's journal before he had to stop. His head was throbbing like a drum and all he wanted to do was kill something or someone. The first fledge or minion that got on his wrong side was dead.

Xander stuck his head in the door just then, "Spike, you wanna . . . Hey! You don't look so good. What's the matter?" Xander walked in and headed straight for Spike.

Spike rubbed irritably at his forehead and forced himself not to snark at Xander. "Head aches. I was reading that translation. Some of the grammar is off, but it's really good. I looked at the journal. It looks like it might be German but it's not."

Xander positioned himself behind Spike and put one hand on his neck. "Whoa, big fella. Lot of tension in there. Let me . . ." Xander dug his thumbs into the tense muscles in the back of Spike's neck. "That journal was written in German. But Ol' Batface used a substitution code that gave me fits. He substituted y for a and moved the value of consonants three letters down." Spike moaned softly, Xander had found the knots and was working them out. "And you have no idea what I'm saying, do you?"

"No, pet, I don't. I'll give you about a year to quit that."

Xander laughed lightly. "I learned from that vamp you send to give me a massage when you can't do it. By the by, have I ever truly thanked you for those massages? Really help. I never thought you'd bother with something like that. I like it. As to the other, moving the value only means that he substituted, like, m for j and like that. See?"

Spike did see and realized that he'd never have figured it out. "Yeah, I do. How the hell did you work that out?"

"Used a code cracker program. Old CIA stuff I remembered from The Soldier. Weirdness that is my life. So, anyway, after that it was simple to just do the substitutions. I got a real headache, though. The letters kept crawling around on me and gave me fits. As to fits, why the hell don't you wear glasses if you need them? This is bad. Your neck is all tight and you're squinting like crazy."

Spike started to say that he didn't need glasses, but Xander interrupted him. "Don't be stupid. You're not Angelus' Childe anymore. You're a Master in your own right. If anyone laughs, gut 'em. That'll shut the rest up quick."

Spike sighed as Xander loosened a particularly tight knot. "You're right, pet. I'll see about spectacles tomorrow. If anyone has the nerve to so much as look at me funny, they're toast. More right there. Yeah . . . As soon as you're done here, head for the bath. We both need one, then I'll return the favor."

Xander sighed too. His evening massage from Spike was something he looked forward to. Sometimes it was the only bright spot in his day. He missed the other Scoobies desperately but he was determined that he wasn't going to call them. If they wanted him, they could call. It still hurt that no one seemed to miss him. He gave Spike's shoulders one final squeeze and left.

Spike looked after him and grumbled. He could smell the grief and had a good idea where it had come from. He decided to give Giles a call after he called the optometrist.

---

Giles answered the phone with an irritated, "Giles here."

Spike grabbed his temper with both hands. "Watcher. You ever decide if you're going to call Xander? He's waiting, you know."

Giles put his book down with a decided thump. "I was waiting for you to give him permission. I don't want to cause him to be punished. If he wants to call, I'd like that."

Spike nodded to himself. "That's good. He misses you; why, I couldn't say. What about the bints? They waiting for a message from on high, or what?"

Giles made a small sound in his throat. "I don't know. I took off the protection spell that went along with the thrall spell as best I could. I'd have thought that they would at least have gotten hold of you to see if you'd let them talk to him."

"Nope, not a jingle. Not a thing. And Willow is supposed to be Xander's bestest bud in all the world." Spike's sarcasm made Giles wince. "And you'd think the _Slayer_ would look out for her _White Knight_. Tell them to call Xander. I'll tell Timmins to put them through." Spike hung up sharply, the loud click making Giles wince.

After Spike hung up, Giles thought for several moments before he called Buffy to ask her if she'd called Xander and been refused. She mumbled around for a few moments then admitted that she'd been too busy to call him. Her excuse was that she'd been studying and slaying so she'd lost track of time. Giles hung up without saying anything.

Willow babbled and fussed, justifying herself with much the same excuses that Buffy had made. She was busy, witch stuff, Tara stuff, class stuff, just too much stuff.

Tara didn't speak to Giles but she made a vow to call Xander as soon as she could. Willow felt so guilty about the mess she'd caused that Tara was sure she wouldn't call Xander first. She was really waiting for Xander to call her to tell her that she was forgiven. Tara didn't think Xander was going to call and told Willow so. Willow poo-poo'ed that, saying that Xander always called first when they had a fight and, besides, she had Wicca tonight. Tara sighed and worried.

Giles sighed and tapped his fingers on the phone. He jumped a foot when it rang.

"Giles." By now he was decidedly snappish.

"Rupert Giles? Yes. Traver's personal secretary here, Henderson. I've called to tell you that there's a new Master of the Hellmouth. You need to make contact with him as soon as possible. We need to be on his good side. Do not let your slayer anywhere near him. The oracles say he's going to be the only one between us and disaster. We're not sure what disaster exactly yet. Good-bye."

Giles didn't even get in a word. He already knew about the new master, he even knew it was Spike. He wished the Council would get their shit together. He winced at the expression and realized he'd been spending too much time with Buffy.

"Bloody hell. I need a drink. I need two. I'm talking to myself."

---

Spike left his office and went in search of Xander. He wasn't in his bedroom or bathroom. Spike worried a bit; he couldn't figure out where Xander could be until he remembered the new garden.

He found Xander in the Granny Garden on the bench at one side. He was smelling a small sprig of rosemary.

Spike walked over and sat down beside Xander. "Wot ya rememberin' pet?"

Xander smiled sadly. "Just things. Change the subject. . . I like the garden, thanks again. I was looking at the unfinished areas. I can put in a gazebo, if you don't mind. And some more stream."

Spike shrugged. "Don't much care what you do. If you finish the stables, I'll be happy . . . you have any idea when, if ever, you'll be returnin' to work?"

Xander stuck the rosemary in his mouth and mumbled around it. "Don't know. Trial . . . then . . . who knows? Depends on so many different things. And . . . well . . . never mind. I'm going to work on the stables tomorrow and every day after that until they're done. Then I'm going to plan some alterations or additions to the gardens. I've got stuff to do. I'm going to work out with Master Bruce some more. I want to get better. And I've got a special project."

Spike's ears perked up at that. "Special project? Tell."

Xander grinned. "Nope, nuh-uh, not a chance. If it works, I'll tell you all about it. Ok? Please?"

Spike couldn't deny Xander when he used that tone of voice and that special expression. "Bloody hell, who's the master here?" Xander stuck his lip out more. "All right, all right. But you owe me."

Xander just nodded and got up. "Come on. I'm tired and so are you. Bed."

Spike got up to follow Xander.He concealed his surprise when Xander reached out and took his hand and squeezed it gently. "Ok, pet, bed."

---

Xander took a shower and rummaged in his chest of drawers for the flannel shirt that had been Jesse's. He loved that shirt, threadbare though it was. When he couldn't find it, he went in search of Timmins. The last he remembered he'd put it in the wash.

"Timmins, that old flannel shirt. Where is it? I want it."

Timmins looked up from his newspaper. "I'm sorry, sir. Which shirt?" Xander described it. "Oh, that one. It was so worn out it was nothing but rags. I tossed it. I'll . . . sir? What's wrong?"

Xander couldn't help the tears that sprang to his eyes. That shirt had been all the clothing he'd had left of his childhood friend, left in his room at home the day before Jesse had been vamped then dusted.

"Nothing. Never mind. It's . . . it was sentimental. I'll be alright. I . . ." Xander whirled around and hurried out, not wanting Timmins to see his tears.

Timmins grimaced; this was bad. Master Spike was going to have a fit. He'd made it plain that he didn't want Xander wearing ragged clothing, but he'd also been explicit as to what would happen to anyone who upset Xander. He followed the boy.

Xander headed for his rooms again. All he wanted to do was curl up and mourn. That shirt, in and of itself, wasn't that much, but it had been almost all he had left of his friend. He felt its loss a great deal. He didn't realize he was walking past Spike until he felt arms around him.

"Here now, pet. Wot's this? Tears? Wot's wrong and who do I kill?" Spike enveloped Xander in a gentle but inescapable hug.

Xander just bent his head and rested his cheek on Spike's shoulder. "My shirt. Timmins threw it out . . . it's old and ragged but it was about all I had left of Jesse. Gone. Just like him." Xander knew he sounded like a girl but he didn't much care.

Spike knew who Jesse was and all about him. Willow had a habit of telling things she shouldn't when she was nervous and Spike could winkle anything out of her by going into game face.

"There now, pet. When was it tossed?"

Spike spared a glare for Timmins who replied, "This morning. I'm not sure. . ."

Spike jerked his head. "The dumpster won't be picked up until tomorrow. Take all the fledges and minions you need and find it. Hand wash it and mend it. Now."

Timmins hurried out as Spike turned to Xander. He didn't bother with trying to lead Xander, he just picked him up and took him to bed. His bed. Xander didn't struggle, he just cuddled into Spike's arms and tried to get himself together again.

"I'm sorry. I'm not usually such a girl. But . . . and Buffy . . . and Willow. I'm just not . . . sorry." Xander couldn't manage a complete sentence.

Spike lowered Xander to his bed and climbed in with him. He pulled Xander half onto his torso and put his arms around him again. "Hush, pet. I'll find it myself if I have to. I'm sorry, I told Timmins to throw out ragged stuff. I never thought about you having anything of sentimental value. I'm sorry. Hush now."

Xander gave a shuddering sigh. "I know you'll fix it. I do. Thanks . . . I'm . . . tired." Xander raised his head for a moment. "And why am I in your bed . . . nice bed." Xander lowered his head again, too emotionally drained to figure anything out. "Sleep now." Spike cuddled Xander as he fell asleep.

An hour later Timmins entered the room. "I found it. It's still in good shape. I'll wash it and darn it. There's not much I can do about the elbows except patch them with some plain color flannel but it should keep it in better shape. He really shouldn't wear it much more or it'll fall apart completely. I'm so sorry. I'll wait for you in the punishment room, shall I?"

Spike could tell that Timmins was truly sorry and very upset so he shook his head. "No. If you'd done it on purpose, I'd skin you with a rusty file. But I know you care for the boy almost as much as I do. Take yourself off and fix that shirt. See if you can't find him one like it. Maybe he will want to put that one up. Go on, get out."

Timmins nodded to Spike, murmuring, "Thank you, master." and left.

Spike lay back to fall asleep himself.

---

The next morning was a revelation to Xander.

"Wakey, wakey, pet. Come on. Eyes wide open." Spike gently shook Xander. He knew there was a chance that the Scooby might wake up and have a fit. He hoped not, as there was no way he was letting the man go back to sleeping apart from him.

Xander woke slowly, enjoying the feeling of being held. He had known this was going to happen for some time now but he hadn't realized that he was really waiting for an invitation.

" 'm not gay."

Spike blinked then started laughing. "Doesn't make much difference, now, does it? 'm not lettin' ya get away. You'll sleep here and either like it or lump it. Got me?"

Xander yawned and stretched, "Yeah, I got it. And looks like you got me, don't you."

Spike was amused at Xander's pragmatic acceptance of his move. "Yeah, I guess I do. Come on. Breakfast is ready."

Xander stumbled from his--their, bed and headed for the bathroom. "I'll be right out. Tell Timmins that I want coffee, lots of it. I've got to get to work. And call about my check, will you? And tell them to start electronically depositing my checks from now on. Ok? So did you read the . . ." Spike decided he'd better follow Xander or he'd be yelling from his shower.

"Pet. Can this wait until we sit down or are you . . ." Spike trailed off as he got a good look a Xander. "Damn, pet, you look good."

Xander unselfconsciously examined himself in the mirror. "Do I? I don't think so. I'll never look nice. I'm too fat and too scarred and all . . .mmmmf," Xander mumbled against the hand Spike had clamped over his mouth.

"If you spit in there. Or lick me. I'll blister you. Shut up an' listen. You're striking. All muscle and sleek skin. A few scars here and there don't mean nothin'. Who said you're fat? I'll eat 'em."

Xander resisted the urge to lick Spike's hand; he didn't want a spanking. "Dad said I'm fat." Xander looked in the mirror again, trying to see what Spike saw. "And don't eat him; he'll give you indigestion." Xander turned to look at his back. He didn't like what he saw. There were pale lines all over it.

Spike distracted Xander from his contemplation by telling him to hurry or there wouldn't be any breakfast left. Then he walked out of the room, leaving Xander to shower and think.

---

When he was clean and dressed Xander headed for the kitchen.

He found Spike sitting talking to Timmins who was making breakfast for them.

Xander pulled out his chair and settled to wait. Spike peeked at him through his eyelashes and decided to keep silent until the boy spoke. He obviously had something to say, he just wasn't sure how to say it. Spike could wait until Xander got his thoughts organized.

"Don't get mad at me, ok? . . . I think I need a contract. I know I'm your thrall and whatever and you can do anything you want to me or use your Master Voice thingy to make me do stuff but you said, and I believe you, that you . . . I'm all mixed up now." Xander gave Spike a despairing look. "How do I do that? I had it all figured out and now it's all gone. Fuck!" Xander slapped both hands down on the table and started to get up.

Spike just snapped "Sit!" Xander plopped down like a marionette with cut strings. "Don't fratch yourself so. I know what you want. We talked about it a little already. You write up whatever will make you feel safer. I'll read it. I'm not promisin' to sign it, but I'll make changes I can live with. Then you change those. We'll keep at it until we reach some sort of agreement. . . how's that?"

Xander just nodded. "Ok. And, can I just say, don't do that! Making sure I sit down again isn't a proper use of _that_ tone of voice. You can't just go all 'order Xander to do stupid stuff' without warning. Besides, I don't think it'll do much to build respect in your minions."

Spike rubbed his face wearily, wondering how such a smart person could act so . . . stupid wasn't exactly the right word. "Ok, pet. You're right. I shouldn't a done that. Minions'll be thinkin' I'm frivolous and that won't do. So, anyway, you do your writin' and get it to me before you have to make your first appearance at court. I'm goin' to go finish readin' that journal and the scroll too. Eat a good breakfast."

Spike sauntered out, tapping a cigarette out of its packet.

Xander ate his breakfast, wondering at Spike's affability. He decided to write up his contract as soon as he could.

---

The next week was busy as Xander worked on another translation and the construction in the stables. He prepared for his introduction to Spike's court. He also worked out with Master Bruce every day.

His time in the gardens was relaxing, as was his nightly massage from Spike. He never did manage to move back into his quarters, only going there to get clothing. Not that he minded much. It was nice waking up to someone calling his name in _that_ tone of voice, instead of yelling at him.

Spike showed up with new glasses which he insisted on calling spectacles. Xander secretly thought he looked sexy in them.

When his purchases arrived, Xander took the boxes into his old bedroom and opened them. He examined everything and sighed. His time at the Fabulous Lady's Night Club had taught him quite a bit, information he was going to use now.

He called Timmins and asked him to help. Timmins nearly choked when Xander told him what he wanted.

"Are you sure, Young Master?"

Xander gave Timmins a calm look. "Not particularly, but it's necessary. You know damn well that nothing else is going to work. And I want to surprise Spike. Do you think he'll be pleased? I hope so. He's been so nice to me, I'm not really sure it's Spike. And he keeps telling me he has ulterior motives. Gives me the creeps when he says that. It can't be good, ulterior motives, do you think? And please tell me you know how all this goes. Cause I sure don't. So what next?"

Timmins gave Xander a kind and exasperated look. "Well, you could begin by being silent. I'll figure out all this gear. Then . . . well, you might as well use me as a handler because you will never be able to put most of this on by yourself."

Xander stripped off his clothing and let Timmins fiddle and adjust and fit. Timmins stepped back to examine Xander then shook his head. "It doesn't fit right."

Xander wriggled; it didn't. "Why not? Where's the instructions?"

Timmins handed Xander the printed sheet and waited for the explosion, which didn't come. "Ok. This is embarrassing."

Timmins raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is. This isn't going to work without . . . er . . ."

Xander just sighed and growled. "Just spit it out. The harness isn't going to fit without a butt plug. So now what?"

Timmins sorted through the assorted plugs that had come with the harness. "The directions state that you have to wear . . . this one or . . . this one for the best effect. I don't think . . . well." Timmins braced himself and asked, "Have you ever worn one?"

Xander shook his head. "No. Don't even know how to get one in without hurting myself. So can I just die of embarrassment right now?"

"No, sir, you may not. I'll show you how to do this. If you need me to, I'll put it in for you every time. I'd advise starting right now and working up to the proper size so that you don't . . . um . . . "

"Walk funny? Just get on with it. What do I do?"

Timmins helped Xander position himself, bent over the bedside, and did what needed to be done. Xander straightened up and decided that this wasn't that bad. It didn't hurt, but he was certainly aware that something was inside him.

"Not bad. Not good, but I can do this. Just . . . I'm kind of weirded out right now, so could you kind of give me some privacy? Oh, and thanks for Jesse's shirt. I put it up. And the new flannel shirt is good. Now. Bye."

Timmins just smiled at Xander and left. By now he was used to Xander's combination of ruthless pragmatism and flat out stubbornness, as well as his sometimes nearly schizophrenic switches of subject.

Xander walked around the room a bit then sat down on the easy chair in the corner. It wasn't as uncomfortable as he'd thought it would be, though he knew as the plugs got bigger he was going to feel it more. He sighed. The things he did because no one else would or could.

---

Spike smiled happily as he contemplated the picture in his head. He would be the envy of all the High Masters. None of the others had human pets, or thralls, or anything. They didn't seem to be able to command loyalty or inspire fear or whatever it was that made a human stay. He knew that if he could win Xander's loyalty and the man's heart, his loving, loyal heart, he would have a companion for eternity. If.

Spike returned to his contemplation of his mental picture. In his mind's eye he was standing in front of a brick archway which he realized was the entrance to one of the old catacombs in Rome. Why? He didn't have a clue. He was standing spread legged with Xander sitting on the ground at his feet, one arm wrapped around his thigh. Xander looked so sexy in his leather chaps and heavy boots. The collar around his neck and the bands around his upper arms were black leather. The leash held firmly in his, Spike's, hand was leather too. Xander looked comfortable and relaxed. Spike had to loosen his jeans. Xander's pierced nipples made him so hard it hurt.

Spike finally realized that he was doing himself no good, gave it up as a bad job, wanked off and went back to reading the journal. He had to admit that the spectacles made reading so much easier. He was enjoying it again.

He was also enjoying comparing the differences in the old, what he thought of as the true, court and Ol' Batface's perversion of it. Spike decided that he was going to introduce the old rules as quickly as he could. They actually made sense. Heinrich had ruled by fear and intimidation, and trained his Childer to do the same. Spike had to admit that it was notoriously inefficient. He couldn't remember a time he hadn't taken true delight in messing with Angelus as much as he could without being punished.

Spike wondered what Xander made of the differences then decided to go ask him.

As he wandered through the rooms looking for Xander, he grumbled, "Soddin' place is fuckin' huge. I'm puttin' a bell on that boy. I better just find Timmins and ask him where the whelp is."

---

Timmins looked up from his work when he heard Master Spike calling him. "Sir? How may I help you?"

"Where the hell is Xander? I want to talk to him." Spike jittered from one foot to the other. He needed a cigarette. "And I'm out of fags again. Bring me my boy and a pack. I'll be in my office."

Timmins just nodded and went to get the requested pack of cigarettes and find Xander.

He found him in his bedroom, rather than in the master suit where he should be.

"Master Spike wants you. And these," he added, picking up a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and handing them to Xander. "You should go quickly; he seems very agitated. Something good, I think."

Xander grimaced as he got out of the chair. The longer he wore the plug the more uncomfortable he got, but he knew if he didn't stick it out he'd be really uncomfortable when he had to go into the court.

"Do you need my help?"

Xander shook his head. "No, I'm just a little sore. I'll go see what Spike wants. Maybe it'll take my mind off this. Do you have a clue?"

Timmins shook his head. "No, young sir. Would you like me to help you dress?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I don't think bending over is a good idea just now. Thanks."

Timmins helped Xander with his shorts and jeans then left him to put on his own shirt. Xander ignored shoes or socks. The floors were warm enough that he really didn't need them.

The soft pad of his feet alerted Spike to Xander's arrival and Xander tossed him the pack of cigarettes as he flopped into his favorite chair with unpleasant results. He straightened up with a groan.

"Ow! Well, dumb much."

Spike narrowed his eyes at Xander. "You alright, pet? Sounds like you hurt."

Xander just put on his most mulish expression and started babbling. "No, nothing wrong with me. And don't pry, it's personal and private and not your business so nope not going there. Change the subject. Changing the subject good. Nosiness, not so good. So you wanted me what for and if it's about that translation it's right. I checked it twice and ran it by a professor and he said it was a myth but we both know better and now you talk."

Spiked took a moment to admire Xander's flushed face then started explaining exactly what he was going to do. Xander listened with interest and offered several intelligent suggestions. They spent the rest of the evening discussing changes in the running of the court. Spike didn't miss the way Xander squirmed uncomfortably from time to time. He decided to let it go for now. If Xander wanted to keep some sort of secret, Spike knew he wouldn't last long. The boy wasn't good at secrets.


	13. Chapter 13

Ulterior Motives 13

Betaed by Skippyscatt and kittypoker1

Xander heaved the floating wall frame upright with a grunt. It wasn't really heavy but it was awkward, the creation of two by four's and nails was the skeleton of a wall. It was one of the walls for a room in the stable. It was eight feet tall and six feet long. Xander would have made it twelve feet long, the length of the room, but he couldn't handle that size alone. He wasn't about to have any of the inexperienced 'donors' helping him. Some of the men might be trainable, but they were Spike's people, not his. They didn't answer to him and he didn't want a crew he couldn't trust.

He sighed as he slammed the nail gun down on the base plate, supporting the frame with one hand. This really wasn't safe. It was way too easy to lose control of the ungainly panel. He slammed another nail into the base plate and started to work his way down the length of the wall to the next spot he'd selected for a nail.

"Oi, wot the 'ell do ya think yur doin'? Idiot boy, if you lose control of that, you're gonna get hurt."

Spike seized hold of one end of the panel and held it, waiting impatiently until Xander got it nailed in place and properly braced. Xander didn't hurry but he didn't fool around either. When he was finished, he turned to Spike and just waited. Spike wasn't shy. He'd let Xander know what was under his skin. Loudly.

"Ok, spit it out, you're about to bust a gut."

Spike just eyed Xander for a moment then he got right up in his face. "You don't look stupid. But you sure act it. Why the hell are you doing this alone? You need help. We talked about this the other day."

"Spike, who the hell do you suggest I get. One of the stable? I don't think so. Most of them aren't fit to do the job. The rest are more dangerous than doing it alone. So, suggestions are welcome, snarking is not."

Spike just swelled up like a poisoned toad. Xander glanced his way and gulped. He knew he'd put his foot in his mouth, he just wasn't sure how to get it out again.

"I'll snark if I like. And I do like. You're mine and I've told you no one abuses what's mine . . . will this stand by itself?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, if I brace it again at the other end. It won't take but a second."

"Get to it then."

Spike waited until Xander had the wall properly braced then grabbed him by one arm. He dragged Xander all the way to his office and positioned him in front of his desk. Spike sat down very carefully, otherwise he'd probably break his chair.

"Ok. I don't want you hurt, so I know I told you about workin' alone. But you persist in disobeyin' me. I asked you. I told you. Now you're in for it."

Xander kicked at the carpet sullenly. "I don't know what you what me to do. I got to get the work done before I go back on the job. And there's no one to help me. I can do it by myself. So ... what now?"

Spike got up and walked to an armless chair with a deep seat. He eased into the leather embrace gracefully and motioned for Xander to come stand in front of him. Xander approached him like he was going to pounce any moment. Spike waited until Xander reached him then told him to strip. Xander started to object but then just did as he was told.

"That was easy. Up to somethin'?"

Xander shook his head, cheeks red. "No. I ... just don't want to be compelled. It makes it worse. I ..." Xander just looked at Spike, feeling vulnerable and a little sick. How bad was it going to be?

Spike patted his thigh. "Over my lap, pet. I'll help you get settled. Don't what you landin' on your head."

Xander eased himself onto Spike's lap. Spike held him carefully until he was settled.

"Now, understand that I mean business when I tell ya somethin'. I don't fancy wastin' my breath. I'm gonna repeat myself. Don't work alone. Don't lift alone. If you can't find someone to help, tell me. I'm gonna give you twenty and you're gonna count 'em."

Xander tensed waiting for Spike to start.

At first all Spike did was rub his butt, making Xander wonder exactly what was happening. He felt that special tingle in his groin and bit his lip, ashamed of his reaction.

Spike gave Xander the first smack and Xander yelped in surprise. "Hey! What?"

Spike gave Xander another smack on the other nether cheek. "Count! Idjit boy."

Xander gathered himself together and started counting. "Um ... two?"

"No. One. If you don't count it out, it doesn't count." Spike sighed at that, the boy was ruining what little proper English he had left.

Xander squirmed a bit. Then settled back. Spike hid a smirk at what he felt pressing into his thigh.

Xander counted ten more smacks, each one hard enough to make his flesh tingle and burn but not hard enough to mark him. Then he started to sob, softly at first then hard enough that Spike noticed.

Spike eased Xander around until he was curled in his lap. "Here, pet. Not that bad, is it? Hold hard now."

Xander just sobbed harder. Spike shifted him, easing Xander's head onto his shoulder then began alternately patting and rubbing is back. "Hush. Ease up. It's all right. You're not hurt, so what's all the blubberin' about? I know I didn't smack you too hard."

Xander hiccuped once then managed between sobs, "Nno ... you didn't ... and that's ... it ... you ... it doesn't hurt ... and Pop."

Spike couldn't help his snarl. Xander was so used to being horribly abused for nothing that Spike's correction had shaken him badly.

"I'm so gonna eat that wanker. Take a breath an' get control of yourself. Here, let's get to the couch. I'm not comfortable and I'm sure you're not either."

Spike looked up to see Timmins hovering and wringing his hands. "Here, stop that flutterin' about and get a blanket. And some water. He'll be wantin' it later."

Timmins didn't take Spike's remarks amiss, instead he just bowed and did as he was told, vowing to see that Xander's father got his due.

Spike got Xander to the couch where he eased into the corner and got Xander back into his lap. Timmins covered Xander with a blanket, put his clothing close by and then positioned himself in a corner where he could watch his two charges.

Xander sobbed himself into hiccups while Spike offered what comfort he could. He realized that Xander was way over due for some sort of break down. He'd never seen anyone as strong as Xander. The idiot boy would throw his heart over the tallest fence without a flinch. But it took a tollon him.

"Hush. Ssshh. Easy." Spike patted and soothed, like he'd done for Dru for nearly a century. He began to purr.

Xander conquered his hiccups and settled against Spike pressing his cheek into Spike's chest. He was nearly asleep when he realized, "Hey! You're purring! I didn't know you could purr."

"'M not. An' I'll deny it to 'm dyin' breath. Sleep. We'll talk later."

Xander drifted off to Spike purring and running his fingers through his hair.

Spike woke Xander by shaking his shoulder. "Wake up, pet. I wanna talk to ya."

Xander mumbled softly then levered himself up from his curl under the blanket. "Wake. What?"

Spike ignored this impertinence. "I remember talking to some of the men in the stable. They were willing to work with you. One or two claimed to have experience. What happened? And don't give me shit."

Xander, unprepared for the questioning, just told the truth. "There were four? Or was it five? Anyway ... they aren't around anymore. Some of them got real jobs and left. One just sort of freaked and Timmins says he got himself admitted to a hospital. So, it's just me. I can do it. I'm used to having to manage for myself. It'll be alright."

Spike shook his head. "I hear of you workin' alone and I'll blister ya proper. " Spike ran a hand over his hair. "Pet, I meant it. I'll find ya someone, but until I do, no more work on the stables. They've got good walls in the dorms now. And that'll be enough until ya get help."

Xander sighed and capitulated. He really didn't like doing work like that alone. If a flat fell on him, he could be pinned for quite sometime. Not something he found attractive.

"Ok, I'll make arrangements with Master Bruce for more lessons. And I'm still working on the translation of that hieroglyphic text. Interesting stuff. You see if you can't find me some help. And I'll be in my gardens. I have some ideas there."

Spike just nodded and left.

Timmins searched out Spike a while later with questions.

"Master, I don't understand. I know you're not that patient a person so ... why did you repeat yourself so many times? And, most important, what happened to Master Xander?"

Spike smiled at Timmins, the vampire was almost as protective of Xander as he was.

"Well, for starters. Whelp's so used to doing for himself, by himself, that I pounded it into his head that I don't want him doing alone. The only thing that will keep the stubborn shit in line is beating a dead horse. As to the crying, he's so used to being beaten half to death for nothing that a simple spanking not only turned him on, it confused him. He just couldn't cope. It's good for him though–washes away the bad. Fix him something he's fond of, will you?"

Timmins thought over what Spike had said. It did make sense, so he relaxed and started planning what to fix Xander.

Spike picked up the journal and put on his glasses. "Where's the whelp now?"

"Working out with Master Chen. He's getting very good."

Spike replied, absently, "He's gettin' more than good. I'm gonna start teaching him how to dust vamps proper soon. He takes to many chances."

Timmins smiled gently and left for the kitchen.

Xander faced Master Bruce and waited. He wasn't sure exactly where this session was headed but he was sure it was important. He set himself and watched as Master Bruce circled him. The attack wasn't unexpected, what else were they going to do? But, since Master Bruce jumped over Xander's head and attacked at the top of his jump, it was different. Xander just grabbed the vampire by one ankle and slammed him to the mat.

Xander turned to face Master Bruce, resuming his defensive stance. Bruce just held his hands in an 'I surrender' gesture.

Xander reached out and helped Master Bruce to his feet. "I do good?"

"Yes, very good. You're amazing. I've never seen anyone learn as fast as you have. Now it's time to move to the next level. Attack, rather than defense. So far, all I've taught you is defensive. Now, I'm going to teach you to attack. And more weapons work." Xander gave an excited little hop, making Master Bruce smile. "We'll find you 'your' weapon. I've taught you how to handle several weapons, but there's one out there that's yours. You understand me?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, one type that I'm especially suited to. One that's as natural to me as breathing. I ... always wanted ... I'm not sure."

Bruce nodded encouragingly. "Go on. It doesn't matter how silly it sounds. Just tell me."

Xander sighed, this was no time for babbling, he had to get his thoughts straight. "Ok. Deep breath." Xander followed words with actions and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Two swords. One, like a ... gladius, or something similar. The other, maybe a tachi. Long, but not a broad sword. Never could like one, you can't get them really sharp. And sometimes you really need a sharp sword. Especially if you're dealing with like a Ramankt, or a Sma'ak. All scales and teeth. And then there's your zombie. Need to have a long sword to deal with them. One scratch and then there's the badness that is infection. And then there's the embarrassment factor. No matter how I train, I'm no good. I mean you trained me so I'm fair but good not so much with the good."

Bruce took a deep breath and snarled. "Shut up." Xander shut. "Never do that. You're good. I don't train men who can't learn. There's some things you need to work on, and you will. Now, I want ... one hundred speed snaps. An equal number of squat kicks and pushups. Then, we'll see about a pair of swords. Your choices and the reasons behind them are sensible. That ... babble is not. Now move."

Xander didn't grumble or complain, he just started working out. Master Bruce said that his habit of babbling made him look stupid, and he supposed it did. Master Bruce also said that no student of his was going to act the idiot, there for the punishment. And a punishment it was. By the time Xander was finished he was sweaty and exhausted.

"Fuck." Xander flopped over on his back and swiped at his face with his sweat soaked t-shirt. "Sensei, you trying to kill me?"

Bruce just handed Xander a water bottle, remarking, "No, I'm trying to see that you don't get killed. Do you want to do a few laps around the dojo?"

Xander swallowed quickly. "Um ... no. Really rather not."

"I didn't think so. Come with me, we'll look at swords."

Bruce led the way across the room to the weapons cupboard, Xander close behind him.

Spike stuck his head in the door and saw them walking across the room. He wondered what they were doing so he used his vampiric speed to catch up.

"Hey ..." Xander jabbed him in the nose with an elbow and whirled to aim a punch at his solar plexus. Spike took the elbow in the nose and rolled with it. Xander's punch didn't miss but it lost a lot of its power. "Easy there!"

Xander pulled the second punch he had aimed at whatever he could get to. "Sorry. Don't do that! I swear I'm going to put a bell on you. Damnit!"

Spike however was grinning at Xander with real pride. "Why is it always my nose? Great moves, pet. Great." Spike turned to Master Bruce. "Bringin' 'im along nicely. What's up?"

Bruce bowed to Spike. "Thank you, master. He's improving quickly. We're picking out swords. Would you like to see?"

Spike nodded rubbing his injured nose. But he was smiling in a rather nasty way. Xander wondered what that was about but forgot almost immediately as Bruce opened the weapons cabinet and pulled out a sword.

"Try this one. I know it's not the right one for you but it'll give me an idea of what will fit. Just go through a kata while Master Spike and I watch."

Xander took the Wakazashi and unsheathed it. It felt way too light, but he wasn't familiar enough with it to make a real decision. Master Bruce had taught him enough sword work earlier that he could defend himself. But the master had told him he was going to teach him attacks now, which were an entirely different thing. He started his kata.

Spike shook his head. "Damn thing's too light. And short. If he wants a short sword ..."

"I was thinking a gladius for a short sword. And that sword is too short. I thought it might be but I'm picking a sword for him the way one was picked for me. Tradition is tradition for a reason."

Spike just nodded his head.

Xander brought the sword back. "Too light and too short. I thought ... maybe a tachi."

Spike picked at his lower lip for a moment then turned to Master Bruce. "He's tall enough but what about his skills?"

Master Bruce nodded, looking thoughtful. "Don't worry about his skills. By the time I'm done with him, he'll be able to handle any sword he gets his hands on. But for a personal sword, a tachi is what I was considering too. So ..."

Xander listened to the exchange carefully, then remarked softly, "Are you sure I'm strong enough to use such a sword?"

Bruce just returned. "You're strong enough. It's skills that make the real difference. And you'll have the skills. I'll see to it. Here."

Xander took the tachi, weighing it in his hand. "Feels good. Should I do the same kata?"

Spike looked at Bruce, who shook his head. "Try the one you've been calling Oak Leaves."

Xander stepped into the middle of the room again and started the kata. Spike watched in happy awe as his puppy-dog-eyed Scooby turned into a dervish. Xander worked his way through the kata and returned to his Masters.

"I like it. It feels like part of my arm. Can I have it? Please?" Xander turned to Spike with his best wheedling expression firmly in place. "Pleaseplease. I'll be extra good. I swear. Ok? Ok?"

Spike nodded. "You can have it, if Master Bruce says it's ok. After all, it's his sword."

Xander turned his pleading gaze on Master Bruce who just nodded sharply, saying gruffly. "I wouldn't have let you try it if I didn't intend for you to have it." He turned to the cabinet again and rummaged. "Now for the gladius. All I've got in the line of such a thing is a cheap one but it'll do for now."

Xander meanwhile was admiring his new tachi. The slightly back curved hilt with its sharkskin and silk cord grip felt natural in his hand, like an old friend. When Bruce called to him, he turned around to see Spike holding a short Roman Gladiators sword. Xander reached out, handed the tachi to Master Bruce and took the gladius.

Master Bruce told Xander to try out the moves he'd shown him, using the wooden practice sword. Xander returned to the middle of the room to work his way through a series of stabs thrusts and counters that made Spike blink. "Bloody hell! He's good. I figured he'd be fair to middlin' but I'm beginnin' to think somethin's up with the boy."

Master Bruce turned to Spike. "Master, he's very good. I'd give you all the particulars but it's ... well. He 'appreciates' well. He has a wide eye, and he ... he can't be dissuaded. Stubborn doesn't measure it when he's made up his mind." Spike made a rude noise. "Yes, but he's been nearly ruined by that, I believe the word you use is wanker, he calls a father. His reflexes are still off. As you know, I worked with him and he's much better, but I'd like to see him work out with humans that resemble his father. It would help a lot."

Spike watched Xander with a discerning eye. Xander moved well now, most of his awkwardness gone. And he knew his stuff, the sword danced around him in a ring of flashing steel. Spike cleared his throat to call Xander in, Xander glanced his way and tripped over his own feet. Spike couldn't believe it, although he was quick to make sure Xander didn't fall on his own sword. "Damn, pet. Bloody watch what you're doin'!"

"Sorry, I just ... well, I got spooked. It's stupid of me but ... oh, hell." Xander ran a hand through his bangs. "Ask Master Bruce about it. I don't understand it. He says I got a PD, and it's triggered by authority figures. Change the subject. Can I have the gladius?"

Spike glanced at Master Bruce, he already knew what a Psychological Dominance was, and Xander having one explained a lot of things. And he knew how Xander had gotten it. His father had beaten it into him with a belt.

"Yes, pet, you can have the gladius. I'll get you a better one later, and a better sword too. For now just work on your skills. Meet me in my office after you're through here. I want to talk to you about your debut at court. First impressions and all that."

Xander couldn't help a small whimpering sound. Spike kept his tongue firmly between his teeth.

Xander winced as he sat down. The butt plug wasn't even remotely comfortable. Timmins had used the next size up and it was jabbing Xander where he didn't want it to. And he wasn't even faintly aroused by it.

"Got a problem there, pet? Somethin' I can do?"

Xander shook his head. "No. I'm fine. Just a little ... er ... never mind. You wanted to talk to me? What about?"

"We need to finish up some stuff before you go to court. You said you were going to write up a contract. I want to read it. Where is it?"

Xander shuddered slightly. "I wrote it up right after we talked about it but ... I can't seem to make myself bring it to you. I don't understand it. It's all in my computer and even printed out. But ..." Xander shrugged irritably.

Spike nodded more to himself that to Xander. "Ok. I think I know what's wrong." He used his Master voice to command Xander. "Bring me your contract. Now." Xander gave Spike a startled look then hurried from the room.

He returned seconds later with six printed sheets and handed them to Spike. Spike settled to read them without comment. Xander thought to himself that Spike looked 'smart' in his glasses, in more ways than one.

Spike read carefully and realized that Xander was being reasonable in his demands. No drawing blood. No body mods, other than piercing of ears. No humiliation. (Spike had a feeling that was a real biggy and that it could cause some problems.) The list was fairly short and only covered two pages, double space. It didn't contain anything that Spike couldn't live with.

The next two pages were what Xander would do for Spike. Spike blinked slowly at the list. It included, body guard, body servant, sex toy, general translator, carpenter, and general contractor. He was, frankly, startled at the whole thing. There wasn't a thing he could object to.

The last two pages were simply the signature page and the witness statement page.

Spike pulled out a pen, mumbled something about 'bloody ball points' and signed on the line bearing his name. Xander signed on his line and handed the whole thing back to Spike. Spike called Timmins in and had him sign as one witness and asked him to find two more. It only took him a moment to return with two men who had obviously been waiting in the hall.

Xander nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the first man. Spike had to admit that he looked astonishingly like Tony Harris, except for the lack of a beer gut and blood shot eyes.

Xander recovered quickly and settled to watch him sign the paper. The next man was a vampire and he resembled Tony as well. Xander glared at Spike who just raised an eyebrow and started folding the papers.

"Now that that's done. On to the next bit of business, which is your appearance in court."

Xander just gazed at him with the blandest expression on his face. Spike gazed back for a moment then just told Xander that he expected him to show up in a proper dress with an attitude befitting a thrall of a High Master Vampire. And no stunts. Xander just nodded said, "got it in one" and left. Leaving Spike to worry that the stupid boy would cause some kind of trouble. Then he'd have to punish him which would, naturally, include the humiliation of being bare ass in front of the court. Spike sighed, juggling the demands of his court and caring for Xander was beginning to get on his nerves. He decided, if he had to chose it would probably be Xander by a very wide margin, then he realized it would be Xander, no probably about it. "Fuck!"

---

Xander bent over the bathroom counter and gritted his teeth. Timmins waited until Xander nodded then he spit on his finger and carefully pushed it into Xander's anus. Xander stiffened his shoulders hunched.

"I'm sorry, young master. I don't know what else to do. I'm sorry it hurts."

Xander shrugged. "I doesn't really hurt. But it's really uncomfortable. Maybe more spit?"

Timmins obediently spit on his fingers again and inserted two fingers, carefully levering them apart to stretch the uncooperative muscles as much as he could. He didn't like this at all but the one time he'd refused he'd come into Xander's study to find him sitting at his desk in tears. The stubborn boy had tried to put the plug in himself and hurt himself rather badly. So now Timmins did the best he could.

Xander groaned and snarked. "Hey, centuries old vampire valet, I thought you would know more about this kind of shit."

Timmins didn't even flick an eye lash as he finally inserted the plug. "I'm sorry. My Sire was a homophobe of raging proportions. After he got dusty, I never rose in the ranks enough to attract anyone's attention. I'm afraid I'm woefully ignorant. I'm truly sorry."

Xander apologized as he straightened up carefully. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't be snapping at you." Timmins just offered to help Xander get dressed. Neither one of them thought to check the internet for information.

---

Xander settled gingerly at his desk and picked up the small pile of messages that his secretary had left. He was still a little puzzled as to how he'd managed to get a secretary. He eyed the hand written notes and sighed, he was tired and the writing was crawling around like angle worms. He buzzed for whatever-her-name-was and told her, for the third time, not to take messages but to let the answering machine pick up.

"But sir, part of having a secretary is, she answers the phone and takes a personal message, so that, if something isn't clear she can ask questions."

Xander contained the impulse to snap with an effort. "Yes, and another part of the having of a secretary is she does what she's told to. Ok? I don't want to get nasty but I can't read this. I ... just let the machine pick up. Please! And what the hell is your name."

The woman looked a bit startled. "It's Marie, sir." Xander wriggled, absently trying to get comfortable. "Are you all right, sir? Should I get Master Spike?"

Xander shook his head. "No. I'm fine. Come here and read this to me. I can't make headsor tails of it."

Marie took the message and read it to Xander. It was a request for a consultation on an Egyptian text. A rubbing of a carved incantation taken from a temple wall. Xander grunted, thinking.

"Who's it from?"

"Um ... a Mister Rupert Giles. Shall I make him an appointment?"

Xander jumped like he'd been smacked, groaned as the plug jabbed at him then shook his head. "No! No, I don't think so. Tell him to send a clear copy and I'll look at it. And don't tell him my name. I don't want the ... never mind. Never give out my name, just tell anyone who asks that I'm a recluse, or a hermit, or a nut. I don't care. Ok. On to the next one."

So Marie read all the messages to Xander then watched as his face fell. She felt so bad for the handsome young man.

"If there's someone special that you're looking for a message from you should tell me. That way if they call, and I'll remember that you don't what me to answer the phone, but if I hear their name I'll be able to tell you that they called at once and you can call them right back."

Xander gave her the names of all the Scoobies and Riley and Anya as well. Marie wrote them all in her notebook and vowed that the minute any of them called Xander would get a heads up. After she tore a strip off them, in a perfectly secretarial way, of course.

So Xander settled down to do a few simple translations, and not for free either. He charged by age of manuscript, clarity of copy (whether it was an actual copy or an original.) and language; by the word. The older the manuscript, the less clear the print and the more obscure the language; the more expensive it was. He was still trying to figure out how his name got around. He mumbled, 'word of mouth is a bitch.' and started sorting his jobs.

He glared at one in particular. This one was going to cost, big time. It was in an obscure Latin, very old, in terrible shape and it stank, literally. It was on a scraped skin of some kind, but he wasn't sure exactly what kind. It was rotting, or molding, Xander wasn't quite sure which. He hated doing Latin it was too much like English. The letters crawled around and some words looked so much alike that it was a pain to figure out which was what. He settled down to work it out quickly. This one was going to cost, big time.

After two hours of steady work Xander wasn't more than half done with the parchment and his head was starting to ache. He put the stinking thing aside and decided to work on something else. As he shuffled through the pile, he sneezed.

"Here! What's this? You gettin' sick?"

Spike strode into the room, heels tapping sharply on the carpeted floor. Xander smiled up at him.

"No, just a sneeze or two. This parchment stinks. And it might be moldy too. See?"

Xander held the parchment out to Spike who took it by one corner and eyed it with some disgust. "Human skin parchment," Spike made a face."never holds up well. And this one is really deteriorating. Old Latin, Russian dialect. Coptic symbology? This thing is a mess. Send it back to whoever cursed you with it."

Xander shrugged. "I'm almost done with it. I ... don't want to spoil my reputation. You know?"

Spike did but he didn't want Xander messing with anything written on human skin.

"I do know. But ... I'm tellin' ya, send it back. Just tell whoever sent it that your master doesn't want you messin' in with that sort of filth. And tell them, him, or it, that you belong to me and you do what I tell ya to. Makes it easier all way around." Xander opened his mouth, but Spike cut him off. "Obey me! I mean it."

Xander said rather sullenly, "I was only going to thank you for getting me off the hook without ruining my reputation. Grouch."

Spike slithered around Xander's desk and pulled him out of his chair, putting an arm around him Spike chucked him under the chin, making him look up. "Sorry, pet. But you 'ave to admit you're a regular pit bull for argument. You're welcome." Spike didn't allow Xander the chance to duck out of the way. He gripped Xander's chin firmly and kissed him full on the mouth.

Xander felt his mind fluttering around like a chicken with its head cut off. Spike kissed like only a hundred and something vampire could. Xander knew most of his blood was not in his head, not the upper one at any rate.

"Oh, um, holy. Spike. Wow. Kissage from Spike. Not what I expected ... I mean ... wow! Just oh my fucking god wow!" Xander pulled back a little and gazed at Spike for a second then he just put his head on Spike's shoulder and sighed. "Nice."

Spike rubbed his back for a moment feeling how stiff his back muscles were. "I'm not askin' what's goin' on, I'm just tellin' ya. If you're hurtin' yourself for some reason, I'm gonna take a cane to ya. Got me?"

Xander, still dazed from the force of his emotions, all caused by kissing Spike, just nodded absently and wondered if he could persuade Spike to kiss him again anytime soon.

Spike settled Xander back at his desk and left. As he walked out the door, he touched his tongue to his lower lip, tasting Xander again. He tasted of coffee and cinnamon.

---

Spike settled on his 'throne' with a soft grunt. This was going to be difficult in the extreme. He'd ordered Xander to make his appearance today and Xander had just nodded, announcing that he was ready. But when Spike had gone to collect him, Timmins told him that Xander wasn't quite ready yet and would he mind if Xander presented himself at court after the opening ceremony.

Since the opening ceremony was just the announcement of all his, worthless to him, titles, Spike said he didn't see why not. So he was sitting on this hard, stupid looking chair listening to his lineage.

"Behold, your master. Childe of Drusilla, who is childe of Angelus, who is childe of Darla, who was childe of Heinrich, who was childe of ..." Spike stopped listening, the herald was going to go clear back to Aurelius, he yawned. "High Master of the line of Aurelius, First of the line, Master of the Order of Taraka, Master of the Hellmouth. All grovel before him."

Spike waited as everyone in the room bowed. "All right. Enough of that shite, let's get down to business. Who's first?"

Spike dealt with several minor differences of opinion, one by yanking the tongue out of the mouth of the one in the wrong. He wouldn't shut up so Spike shut him up.

When he called for the next petitioner, he got a demon who wanted to know when they got to see his 'pet/thrall'. The demon implied that there was no such person. Spike wanted to gut him then go smack Xander. The boy was supposed to be there.

A shuffling of feet caught everyone's attention. Suddenly there was a ripple through the crowd as they made way for a cloaked figure.

The figure walked down the open aisle, Spike heard the soft rattle of chain against concrete. The cloak covered the figure from the top of its hooded head to the floor. It walked slowly right to the foot of the dais where Spike was seated. Spike watched in silence.

Timmins stepped from somewhere nearby and went to the cloaked figure. He reached up and opened the clasp then pushed the cloak from the figures shoulders letting it drop to the floor.

Spike nearly bit his tongue. The figure was Xander.

Xander was wearing nothing more that some straps and chain. He was wearing a collar around his neck with a leash looped over his back. His arms were restrained behind him in a traditional box, each wrist bound to the opposite elbow. A chain dropped from the collar to a big ring centered in Xander's breastbone. Straps went over each shoulder from there and a single strap to the belt around his waist. The soft rattling sound had been the leg irons. His ankles were wrapped in studded leather cuffs, heavily padded and connected with a glittering diamond cut steel chain. But the thing that made Spike do a definite double take was the chastity pouch. He knew damn good and well the only way one of those fit properly was with a butt plug. Suddenly Xander's wriggling and groaning made sense.

Xander bowed slightly from the waist but he didn't take his eyes off Spike for a second. His challenging look put Spike on notice that he'd better take this seriously. He did, so he just sat waiting for Xander to make his next move.

Xander walked forward, chains rattling. He knelt at the base of the dais and bowed his head. "Master, I present myself."

Spike looked at Xander's bowed head for a second. Then a demon stepped out of the crowd, unfastening his pants."Goody, I get first shot, always wanted a taste of human." Xander shuddered slightly. He didn't want his first experience to be some strange demon.

Spike moved so fast that Xander felt the breeze across his back. Spike stopped the demon with a quick gesture. "First ya have ta prove you're worthy. Lemme see."

The demon dropped his pants and Spike took things in his own hands. He pulled the demons genitals off and stuffed them in his mouth. "Any one else? See, I know how it's supposed to go and my court will be run on the proper traditions. You keep your hands off what's mine. If others want to share, that's their malfunction. Xander! On that cushion."

Xander stood up using only his thigh muscles and his new found sense of balance. He managed the step with a minimum of fuss and settled on his knees on a thick cushion, called a zabuton. Spike returned to the huge chair. He glared around until every demon and vampire in the room found somewhere to look that wasn't at Xander.

"Next. I posted the rules for court days ago. Anyone who can't read should have gotten someone to read them by now. Any questions?"

A demon hesitantly held up one hand, Spike just nodded to him. "Is that the human who built the dormitory?" at Spike's nod the demon seemed satisfied, bowing and returning to his place. The rest of the room looked at Xander with interest, but carefully so as not to annoy Spike.

---

Xander sat on his cushion and watched and listened. Spike heard grievances from the mundane and even silly to arguments that could tear Sunnydale apart despite Buffy's best efforts. He realized that what Buffy was for was to keep the resident population of idiot demons under control and to avert the occasional apocalypse. Not an easy job, but an impossible one without Spike's behind the scene manipulations.

Spike realized that Xander was getting extremely tired. He'd maintained and up kneel position for an hour. When Spike realized that he was beginning to tremble, he'd had Xander kneel back on his heels. Now Xander was starting to sweat, so Spike pulled him into a sideways kneel, usually referred to as the mermaid, and patted him into place with his head on his thigh. Spike liked the feel of the boy's head resting there. He ran his fingers through Xander's hair and shifted so that Xander's shoulder wasn't pressed into the edge of the arm. "We'll be done in a little bit, pet. Then I'll help you out of that kit. Just relax. You done good." Xander rubbed his cheek on Spike's jean clad leg and relaxed.

Spike petted Xander's hair for the rest of the session, feeling his relaxation and reveling in the knowledge that the 'whelp' trusted him enough to walk into a master vampire's court bound hand and foot. He wasn't about to let the man down.


	14. Chapter 14

Ulterior Motives 14

Betaed by Skippyscatt

Spike finally called a halt to the court session. He didn't expect or get any argument.

Xander was grateful for the hand Spike tucked under his elbow. He didn't think he was going to get to his feet without it.

"Hang in there, pet. We'll be in the back hall in a mo'."

When they entered the hall Spike just scooped Xander up and flipped him over one shoulder. He headed for their quarters at a fast walk, trying to keep his stride as smooth as possible. Xander just relaxed and let his head hang. He wanted in their quarters and out of the harness as soon as possible. The stiff black leather was digging into some seriously tender spots.

Spike kept up a constant flow of small talk as he walked. "You did so good, pet. I'm really proud of ya. Ya smelled of fear once. When that demon tried ta touch ya. Knew I wouldn't let him, didn't ya? No one touches what's mine. Now, we're almost home. Don't wriggle like that."

Xander subsided as he realized that they were only in the living room he wasn't going to be put down until they were in the bathroom or he missed his guess. He was right. Spike didn't put him down until they were in the middle of the bathroom.

Spike steadied Xander then started stripping the harness off him. Xander let out a sigh of relief when Spike removed the collar. It had an odd length between the holes, or Xander had a thick neck. Anyway, it was either too tight or too loose, they'd decided on too tight for various reasons.

When Spike saw the marks the collar had made he snarled softly. "Collar was too tight. And this ..." he plucked at the chest harness. "Is way too stiff. Should have worked it."

Xander just groaned in relief as Spike stripped off the last of the harness except for the chastity belt. That was going to take a little more care.

Spike unbuckled the belt and gently pulled the leather away from Xander's skin, he was chaffed under the waist belt. Xander whimpered a bit. It hurt when the air hit it. Then Spike realized that Xander was wearing the chastity cup wrong. He started swearing and didn't stop until he had eased the sheath off Xander's penis which was swollen, engorged and raw. Xander sighed in relief as the leather parted and fell away.

"Turn around, you stupid git and let me get that plug out of you." Spike got a good look at Xander's anus and just gritted his teeth for a moment. "You bloody great wanker! You never heard of lube? What have you done to yourself?"

Xander just hung his head wearily. "Um ... not gay here. I have no idea what you're talking about."

Spike breathed in then out, took a deep breath and blasted Xander. "What the bloody fuckin' hell are ... do you think you're doin'? Why didn't ya come to me? This is ... I don't ... damn!"

Xander bit his lip, he wanted to turn around and face Spike, but he knew that if he did it would hurt. He'd made that mistake early on. So he just leaned on the counter and waited for Spike to run down.

When he did Spike carefully eased the plug from Xander and examined the damage.

"Well, it's not too bad, although I'm sure it feels worse. Idjit boy. You should have come to me."

"How am I supposed to come to you when it was supposed to be a surprise? And quit calling me an idjit." Xander started to work on a full on sulk.

Spike just patted Xander on the small of his back. "I'm sorry. Hold still an' I'll make you feel better."

Xander turned around covering his backside with both hands. "No! Um ... thanks ... I mean, thanks but no thanks I think I'll just let it heal on its own. Making me feel better won't ... I'd rather not ... at least I don't think ..." Xander got a good look at Spike's face, his eyes held a definite tinge of yellow. "Ok, shutting up now."

Spike took Xander by one arm and turned him around firmly pushing him back to the counter.

"Bend, dammit."

Xander bent grumbling. Spike reached up to a shelf and took down the pot of salve that the healer had given him for Xander's infected wound. He dipped his finger into it and dabbed some onto Xander's irritated opening. He worked it in, letting the slick salve do its work. Xander sighed softly. Spike took the opportunity to add a little more salve and ease one finger slightly into Xander's resisting body.

Xander whimpered again. "Easy. I'm really sore."

"You're raw. What did you use, if you didn't use lube?"

"Spit."

Spike's explosive 'Fuck!' brought an unexpected result.

"No! Not yet! I'm ... I mean ..." Xander stuttered to a halt at Spike's rather wide eyed look. "Please. I know we'll do it sooner or later but later, please. I know I won't enjoy it, but I'd really rather it didn't hurt."

Spike physically shut Xander up by putting a hand over his mouth. "Yeah, bloody well right. I don't want to hurt ya either. Sex shouldn't hurt, unless you like that sort of thing. An' your first should be somethin' special. Not a quickie, knock boots an' go. When I take you for the first time, you'll be beggin' for it. And I'll make sure you like it. Now calm down."

Xander calmed himself as best he could, he knew by now that Spike meant what he said. The man had been a wimp and the vampire was amoral, but his word was cast in adamantine. Absolutely unbreakable. And Spike said he would never harm Xander. Xander knew that didn't mean that Spike wouldn't hurt him but that was an entirely different thing.

Spike turned Xander around for the third time and eased his finger back into him. Xander whimpered a little but held still, he was starting not to hurt quite so much. Spike gently ran the pad of his finger over a little something called a prostate gland, Xander's knees buckled and he nearly hit his head on the edge of the counter. Spike laughed gently, "Come on, pet. Let's get you into bed." Xander let Spike lead him into the bedroom and nudge him into the bed. He lay down and obediently settled on his stomach. Spike spread his cheeks and examined him again.

"What are you doing?" Xander started to tense and earned himself a smack on the butt.

"I'm lookin' to see how much damage you've really done." Spike shook his head at the results of his examination. "Not that much, but you've really made yourself sore. Do you remember what I told you?"

Xander nodded against the pillow. "Yeah, you said if I did myself any damage you'd cane me. Um ... I've never been caned before. Does it hurt a lot? Not that I'm a big baby or anything. I'll take my punishment like a man ... I hope. But I could do better if I knew what to expect."

Spike gritted his teeth, trust the boy to remember the bad and expect worse. "I will cane you because I said I would, but I'm not gonna cut you, or leave you so bad off you can't sit. I remember one of my professors. He was fond of hickory. He'd take the skin right off, then make me sit and write lines. Not pleasant at all. And I didn't learn a damn thing except to hate him. I'll do better by you. Now, be still, relax and let me fix this."

"Ok." Xander had the Scooby skill of managing several threads of thought at one time, so when he returned to a previous subject Spike wasn't surprised. "Um ... what did you do to me? That was ... something else. I ... think I liked it, not too sure because with the knee buckling and the stars dancing and ... could you do it again? Just so I'll be sure because not with the sure but I think it's good but not so straight with the finger in my ass and what ... the plug thing didn't feel like that it felt damn uncomfortable and very not good in a really bad sort of way only Timmins tried he did I swear so don't go getting on him. Ok?"

Spike took a minute to unravel this convoluted example of Scooby speak. "No, pet. I'm not going to punish him. But I'm definitely havin' the lube is good talk." Spike took another moment to mentally kick himself for that particular bit of SS. "Dammit, now you've got me talking like a SoCal boy. I'm gonna get you for that."

Xander smiled into the pillow. "Looks to me like you've already got me. Where you want me even. Can we get on with whatever this is going to turn out to be? And when do I get punished. Not that I'm eager or anything but better over and done as quick as possible the anticipation is worse than the beating ... so ... what next?"

"Next, this." Spike slipped his finger back into Xander and ran it over his prostate again. Xander bucked up once then settled back on the bed. Spike was very careful not to startle Xander, he didn't want the boy bucking again as he might hurt himself. Xander began to whimper softly as Spike continued to massage his prostate urging him toward, he wasn't sure what. But he was sure he wanted it.

When Xander was humping the bed rhythmically, Spike slid his other hand, lubed with the healing cream, under him and began stroking Xander's swollen member, careful to telegraph every move. Xander let out a low moan and stilled, trembling. Spike knew that it wasn't going to be long before Xander came. When he did it was silent, just an increase of Xander's trembling then a few jerks. Spike resolved that, if he ever got the chip out of his head, he was going to make Tony Harris one very unhappy man.

"Like that, did ya? Felt good, didn't it?"

Xander managed a few semi coherent grunts then he rolled over with a grimace. "Yuck! Now we have to change the bed. I think Timmins is going to be pissed. We ruined the coverlet. But, on the other hand. Can we do that again? I really, really liked it. A lot. Does that make me gay? Or should I really care? And need I say ... wow! Very much with the wow. Thank you."

Spike just smirked at Xander, yanked the coverlet off the bed and tossed it on the floor. "Timmins won't say a word, even if we did ruin that damn thing. It's mine to do what I want with. If I want ya ta come all over it, you will. Now, rest. I've got some stuff to do."

Xander started to say something but Spike snapped a hand up in a stop gesture and Xander subsided. He didn't want Spike to remember that he was due a punishment, not just now. He wanted to bask in the afterglow of his orgasm, instead he just nodded and settled back in the bed. Spike covered him with a quilt and left.

Xander pulled the quilt up to his chin then smiled as he recognized one of his Grammy's quilts. He settled down and fell asleep almost at once.

Spike found Timmins and had a few words with him, which included 'lube' and a smack on the back of the head that would have crushed the skull of a human. Timmins just grumbled 'ow' and asked for the evening off. Spike told him to drop by the store and get some K-Y Jelly on the way back from wherever it was he was going. Timmins just bowed and said he'd do that.

Spike sighed in frustration, his boy was backsliding something awful. He'd finally gotten Xander to drop the Scooby Speak but now he was back to babbling again. And he'd earned a punishment on top of that. He'd hurt himself after Spike had carefully cautioned him about that. Spike rubbed at his forehead and vamped. He was going to have to think hard to figure out how to punish Xander without doing him harm. He grumbled crossly, "bastard ol' man. Like ta bite him, I would."

Spike wondered idly where Timmins was going then turned to other concerns. Like a pile of paperwork that made him growl.

First Timmins dropped by a sex shop and flat out asked the clerk what he should buy. The clerk was a Dilmona demon so he knew better than to laugh, he just handed Timmins a selection of samples of lubes packaged as a gift basket along with a vibrator. Timmins made arrangements to have it delivered.

Then he dug the list Xander had given him out of his inner breast pocket and consulted the directions printed on the top. He wondered vaguely why every note Xander gave him was printed from a computer then dismissed the niggling worry in favor of finding the electronic parts Xander wanted.

He went to Radio Shack and handed the note to the clerk. The clerk was one of those geeky types that always wind up in places like that. Timmins waited patiently as the boy pulled the parts for him as he had admitted that he had no idea at all what any of them were or where to find them.

"Well, that's the lot. I'd just like to know what you need with a variable frequency–intensity electro-magnet that size. People call me weird. You want this delivered? ... Of course you do. Can't carry that pile of stuff in a shopping bag. Address?"

Timmins gave the address to the clerk and walked out the door satisfied that he'd gotten what Young Master Xander wanted. He never thought of Xander as other than Young Master, even though Xander wasn't a vampire.

Timmins shook his head, dropped into game face and opened a man hole. He dropped through the hole and carefully oriented himself.

It didn't take him long to get to the Harris household. It took just a moment longer to get in.

All he had to do was ring the door bell.

Jessica Harris opened the door to the nice looking British sounding man who had smiled hopefully and asked to use the phone. The very nice man who told her she was beautiful, she was tired, she needed to sleep.

Timmins lowered Jessica onto her bed and sniffed in distain. The smell of cheap wine covered her like a cloak. She snuffled in her sleep and rubbed her nose with the back of one hand. Timmins sneered genteelly. How this frowzy bag could have produced a man as fine as Xander was totally beyond him. He turned to look for Tony. He was easy to find.

All Timmins had to do was walk back down the stairs. Tony Harris was standing right in the dining room doorway, blinking at Timmins like a drunken bull frog.

Timmins bowed slightly and announced. "I'm here to extract retribution on behalf of Master Spike and Young Master Alexander. You'll strip, please."

Tony swelled up like the afore mentioned frog and refused. Timmins insisted calmly. Tony got nasty. Timmins got nastier. It didn't take him long to get Tony stripped down and bent over the back of the couch.

"Now, stay there. I'll break something if I have to. But it would be better to avoid that particular unpleasantness. I know you're wondering what this is all about, so I'll tell you. You nearly ruined your own son. My father was a valet as was his father before him and his before him. Now, I'm sure you're wondering what that has to do with anything.

"I was taught to be loyal to my master and I was, until he was dust. Now I have a new master and he has a pet--One that it's taking a long time to retrain. Your training ... was revolting. So I'm going to take it out of your miserable hide, until Master Spike can get around to you. Then ... well, I wouldn't want to be you.

"I do believe he might even turn you. Just so he can spend several years torturing you, for the fun of it, you know." Timmins removed his belt. "Time to get on with it."

Tony blubbered and bawled, he begged and screamed. Timmins delivered twenty hard lashes with the belt, put it back on and vamped right in Tony'sface.

"It will please you to know that your son is loved by The Master of The Hellmouth and treasured beyond all measure. Or not. Good bye." Timmins turned to go. "Oh, you might want to put some ice on that. Or sit on some." Timmins snickered at his own little joke and left the house.

Buffy grumbled softly, Giles was going bat shit on her. He was still researching the incursion of the newest oogity-boogity, an insect this time. It was nearly six somethings long. But Giles couldn't figure out what the somethings were. He'd sent the scroll to the new translator in town, who'd sent it back as it was written on human skin. Buffy wrinkled her nose, thinking 'Eeeewww!'

"Giles, you want me to go to the translator and ... um ... convince him to do the job? I will." Giles gave Buffy a sharp look. "Oh, get a grip. I won't actually hurt the ... whatever ... I'll just scare it a bit."

Giles shook his head. "No, Buffy, that won't be necessary. He is human by the way. And a member of the Master of the Hellmouth's court. We need to make contact with him, the Master that is. And try to do the pretty. We're allies of sorts. He won't bother us if we don't bother him. His role is to keep the better demon elements under control. We can't alienate him. It'll just make your job twice as hard."

Buffy nodded rather grumpily, they'd had a long talk and Giles had filled Buffy in on some things that slayers weren't usually told. She'd been a bit shocked but gotten her head around the idea rather quickly. In fact she'd remarked, 'Well, gee, now I feel so much better. I'm just a glorified cop, only for drunken demons instead of well, shit." She'd gone on a long run then come back to say, "Ok, all better now. In fact, kinda relieved. I'm not up against the entire demon world, just the bad element. Not good, but better than it was. Now who do I kill this week." Giles had just shaken his head and started researching.

Willow and Tara had taken the news with ease. It seemed that Tara had filled Willow in on that particular bit of news months ago. Willow just grumped, "I was wondering when you were going to fess up. I suppose the Council of Wankers will have a spaz when they find out that you tattled on them."

Giles had winced a bit, Willow must have been listening to him on the phone. He had finally told the Council that they could take their old-fashioned attitude and Bugger Off. So, while they didn't have the council looming over them every moment, he'd lost some of his resources, although they couldn't cut off the money anymore. Buffy had seen to that when she'd confronted Chambers the last time. Giles smiled in remembrance, retroactive pay for over a year! He'd set up a retirement plan, one that went to Buffy if she should survive him.

"Now,I need a book. Willow, I think it was scanned into the Council data bank. See if you can find it for me."

Willow nodded and started typing. Tara had replaced Xander as donut getter and was busily making coffee.

Giles was still trying to figure out how big the insects were. One resource said that they were six minimus long, but he couldn't find out how long a minimus was. Another source showed a scarab like insect with a man drawn near it. The bug was as tall as the man and three times as long as the image was tall. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, if that was the size comparason, it was at least six feet tall and twelve to fifteen feet long. He was not happy.

"Buffy, we're going to have to go to the court and beg the Master of the Hellmouth to allow his translator to do this job. Please ... let me do the talking. I'll see if I can't make arrangements. And have any of you girls heard from Xander. I left a message and got an answer back. He's not taking calls from me until further notice. I didn't like the tone of voice the secretary used."

Buffy winced while Tara gazed accusingly at a very red Willow.

"Well, I was going to call him yesterday but I found out I have a test tomorrow and I had to start studying for it." Buffy had the good grace to look embarrassed.

Tara just sighed, "Willow w-w-w-a-a" Willow patted her on the shoulder and took up the explanation.

"I was going to call him last week but ... well ... I forgot. And then ... I'm not sure what his number is anymore. He's with ... Spike now. And it's just too freaky and it's all my fault and I just ... he'll give me the Xander eyes of doom and I hate that and I feel so bad and ... it's Spike!"

Giles gave Buffy his Watcher look and said firmly, "I have the number. You'll all three call him no later than tomorrow at three p.m.. Or else. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

Three heads nodded vigorously Giles went back to trying to finish his translation. The scroll did smell rather rank.

Xander woke up and stretched carefully then relaxed. He wasn't sore or stiff. He sighed and scrambled out of the bed. He wasn't about to lay there wondering when Spike was going to come for him. He knew from personal experience that that would just make the punishment worse.

So when Spike looked up at him he just gulped and charged his fence.

"I'm here. You said ... I wish ... damn. I'm starting again." Xander took a deep breath and opened his mouth. Spike just shook his head.

"Never mind, pet. You smell of fear and I know what you want. I'm not going to beat you half to death or humiliate you ... much. You do realize that most punishments are humiliating just by their very nature?"

Xander was easily sidetracked. "I meant ... um ... no kissing your ... un ... or ... you know ... no making me eat worms or something. No, just no. you know?"

Spike found that he did. Xander didn't want to be put on display or have to service someone other than Spike. There were other humiliating things, like licking Spikes boots that were also out of bounds. Spike realized that Xander was relatively accepting, a thing that never ceased to amaze him. Once the stubborn git had made up his mind to do something he was like an irresistible force of nature.

"Yeah, pet, I think I get it. Now ... your punishment. I said I'd cane ya good. An' I will. But you don't have to worry about me cuttin' ya. And I'm not gonna cane ya harder than I was caned by some of my professors ... when I was human." Spike got up and walked around the desk. He gathered Xander's hands into his and patted them gently. "Now, I'm gonna tie ya. I don't want ya put in' a hand behind yourself. It's almost instinctual but it's no good, won't help much and might break one of the little bones in your hand."

Xander watched as Spike tied his wrists together with a silk cord. "You mean a metacarpal? That's not a good thing. I don't like this. I'll keep my hands out of the way. I swear. Ok? Please? Ok?"

Spike hardened his heart against Xander's pleading chocolate eyes. It didn't beat, so that puppy dog gaze didn't hurt it, much.

"No, not takin' a chance on breakin' a finger. Now be a good boy and bend over the desk."

Xander blinked at Spike for a moment then bent. Spike walked around the desk and pulled Xander's bound hands to the edge of the desk and tied the silk cord to the drawer handle. Then he realized that he had made a small mistake. He'd forgotten to have Xander take down his trousers. Spike reached under Xander and started on his belt. Xander stiffened and tried to straighten up.

"What? No! Stop! I won't ... it's ..."

Spike pushed Xander back down, snapping, "Stay! I'm takin' your pants down whether ya like it or not." Xander settled back on the desk.

"Sorry, I just freaked a little. I'll be good. Spike?"

Spike just grunted as he was in the process of pulling Xander's pants down to his knees and getting a good look at Xander's tackle at the same time.

"Will it hurt a lot? I've never been caned before."

Spike straightened up. "Don't think it'll hurt as much as havin' your dear daddy work ya over. At least I don't intend it too. If it gets to be really too much, tell me. But no chickenin' out, mind."

Xander froze for a split second, Spike was telling him that all he had to do was say it was too much? Ok?

Spike fetched the cane and bent it to make sure that it was in good shape. It wouldn't do to have it split or splinter, that might cut Xander.

The first blow stung and made Xander jump, the second one was worse. After that Xander just counted in his head and went limp when his internal counter said ten. It really wasn't that bad but Xander took a moment to make sure his breathing was even before he asked Spike to let him go. Spike untied Xander's hands and gently rubbed the marks the cord had left. Xander just worked on controlling his breathing.

"Easy, pet. All over now, yeah? You'll be ok in a mo'. Breath easy." Xander nodded cuddling up to Spike. Spike let him, with relief.

When Xander slid his arms around Spike's waist, Spike relaxed. He rubbed up and down Xander's back then realized that Xander's pants were still down around his thighs.

"Ya wanna take those off or pull 'em up?" Xander reached down with one hand to pull his pants up. Spike released Xander and did it for him. "You all right with this? If it hurts too much, I'll get Timmins to bring ya somethin' more comfortable."

Xander eased the jeans up but decided he'd rather have sweats. Spike called Timmins to come and get Xander the sweats. Timmins didn't answer.

"Well, bugger. I guess he's not back from his outing yet. Come on. We'll go to the bedroom and I'll help ya with 'em."

Xander followed Spike back to their quarters and readily allowed Spike to help him with the change of clothing. He knew that he wasn't going to get any relief from his pain, what use was a punishment if it was eased away too soon?

After Xander wasredressed and settled on his side on the couch in Spike's office, Spike gave him another lecture on taking care of himself then asked, "Ya have any idea why I'm pissed at ya? From the look on your face, ya don't?"

Xander wriggled to get more comfortable. "Not really. I did what you asked of me. Without whining I might add. So no, not a clue and I'd really appreciate one. Or several. I don't like being caned. But I will admit it's better than what my father would have done. And I'm not a coward ..."

Spike held up a hand. "You're not. Physically or otherwise. Anyone who can stand up to Angelus is braver than they should be. Git. But you really messed up and I wanted to make sure I had your complete attention. You could have really hurt yourself and gotten Timmins dusted." Xander's head jerked up. "Got you now? Good."

"When you shove a plug in unlubed, it's real easy ta puncture your rectum. Not a good thing. Ya could bleed out before anyone, even a vampire, knew it. I'm proud of ya for wantin' ta surprise me like that, but ya could at least have done some research on the 'net. There's a bunch of places that tell ya all sorts of information. Ya got that gear off the 'net. Didn't ya even think of lookin' for info?"

Xander shook his head. "I guess I don't think like that. All I've ever done is research on ancient languages, demons, and shop. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at Timmins, he's ... old enough that he doesn't really understand the 'net. Ok. Please?"

Spike shook his head. Xander wouldn't even think of begging for mercy for himself but he instantly begged on behalf of someone else. He knew he had a treasure and he intended to keep him safe, even from himself.

" 'M not gonna punish Timmins, you're right, he wouldn't have any way of knowing. But now that you've got the hint. No more surprises like that. Consult me about everything. I don't want you wearing ill fitting harness or anything that will really hurt you. Understand?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I do. And ... thanks. I'm really kind of tired. Do you mind if I take a little nap?"

Spike shook his head and told Xander to go to sleep if he wanted to.

Xander woke about midnight, tried to roll over and realized that he was neatly pinned by Spike's leg. He was surprised to realize that it didn't bother him that much.

"You awake, pet?"

"Yeah, I just woke up. Um ... I need to roll over. And ... Spike?" Spike moved his leg so Xander could roll over on his side then mumbled, 'What, pet?' "I was just thinking. You know, I wasn't really thrilled about this thrall thing. But now not so bad really."

"After unraveling that. Ok, why not so bad?"

Xander snuggled his nose into Spike's neck and sighed. "You take good care of me. Even make me take care of myself. No one's ever done that before. 'S nice." Xander dozed back off leaving Spike with the fervent desire to bite someone. Watcher, Slayer, Father or Best Friend he didn't much care, none of them had done justice by Xander.

Spike petted Xander's hair and started to purr.

Next evening Spike dragged Xander out of bed, ignoring his grumbling. Xander was still having trouble getting used to waking at four in the afternoon instead of six in the morning. Therefore, as Spike said, he was 'Bloody pissy' when he got up.

Xander dragged himself through a shower, washed his hair and rooted around in his closet to try to find something he wanted to wear. He wound up with a pair of jeans, t-shirt, flannel shirt and his old boots. He liked his boots, they were old and fit his feet.

Spike took one look at Xander and smiled. "Look good, pet. Those jeans fit ya a treat, and that t-shirt. Drool worthy that is. But those boots have got to go. They're all worn out."

Xander took the cup of cappuccino that Timmins handed him and took a gulp. Spike winced, he was never going to get used to Xander's asbestos mouth. "Spike, I'm not in a good mood. I woke up again and couldn't get back to sleep, no matter how hard I tried. And I got another translation request from Giles. Another one of his nasty, stinky parchments. In some other bastard language. All about bugs." Xander finished his coffee and literally whined, "I wish he'd quitsending me that stuff. When I was around, he didn't want me to have anything to do with it. Now that I'm on my own, he won't go away. I duwanna do it. They stink and I hate bugs."

Spike just gathered an unresisting Xander into a hug and announced, "Tell your secretary not to put his calls through unless they're personal. And stick to it. Tell her to refuse any request for translations that are on human parchment. Or anything moldy, or stinky. You're in charge of what you translate and what you don't. If you have trouble gettin' any being ta leave ya alone, let me know. And chuck those damn boots."

Xander hugged back without protest. "Ok. Thanks. And leave my boots out of it. I like 'em."

Spike snorted, "Go dry your hair, you're drippin' all over. Then we'll go shoppin'. I'll replace those boots with something better."

Xander decided that shopping sounded like fun. "Sure thing. Give me ten minutes."

Spike gave Xander five and was glad he did.

"Oi! Wot the bleedin' 'ell do ya thing you're doin'? Bloody idjit git. Freeze!"

Xander froze, scissors in hand, one lock of hair pulled straight out from his scalp. He couldn't have moved if his life depended on it. Spike took the scissors out of his hand and smacked them down on the counter.

"Told ja not to mess with it didn't I?"

Xander shook his head. "You told me not to butcher it. But it's gettin' in my eyes. Let me go."

Spike nodded. "Ok, unfreeze. And I'm sorry. Didn't intend ta do that. But no cuttin' your hair. If you need it trimmed get Timmins to do it. I'll do it this time. Here."

Spike wrapped a towel around Xander's neck and proceeded to trim his bangs. He snipped off bits here and there, cutting off the offending locks. But he left the back long and only trimmed the bangs enough to get them out of Xander's eyes.

Xander examined himself in the mirror. "It looks really good. I like it." Xander shuffled his feet and hung his head, peeking at Spike from under his newly trimmed bangs. "Will you cut it from now on? I like it. No one ever bothered before. I just hacked off what was hanging in my eyes and down my collar. Thanks."

Spike just dragged Xander out of the bathroom calling Timmins to clean up his mess.

Timmins met them in the hall with a phone in his hand. "Call for Master Xander, sir. I'll get right on it." He handed the phone to Xander and headed for the bathroom. Xander took the phone and said 'Hello?'

Xander listened for a few moments then asked, "What are you telling me?" His face turned an alarming shade of red. "You mean to tell me that in order to get that four hundred thousand back..." Obviously interrupted Xander listened some more. "What about my back pay and bonuses?" He listened again. "Ok. I see. Thank you. About that restraining order, I want a copy delivered to this address. I don't consider myself served until I read it for myself. And I'll have my lawyer look it over. Good-bye ... oh, and fuck you."

Xander punched the cut off button and threw the phone at the wall. It dissolved into shards.

Spike flinched as one pecked him on the cheek. He hurried to grab Xander and hold him as he flailed in fury. This was not good, Xander was a lot stronger than he'd been before he fell into Spike's hands and he was a better than average martial artist too.

"Easy, pet. Take it easy. I heard most of it. Wot the bleedin' 'ell are they thinkin' I'm callin' the legal johnies. Just sit down. TIMMINS!!" Spike's bellow brought the valet at a run. "Get tea. Something herbal with cat mint and chamomile. Go!" Timmins scrambled out the door.

"Now, tell me exactly what happened. I heard it all but I'm not sure exactly what some of that gobble-de-gook means."

Xander drew in a deep breath. "Ok. The lumber yard coped a plea ... made a deal with the PA ... prosecuting attorney. They pled guilty to a lesser charge and got off easy. They have to reimburse the company for the difference in prices, pay a fine and cancel the rest of their contract. In return, I'm out on my ass. I get let go without prejudice, I get my back pay and whatever bonuses I was promised ... and I intend to squeeze them like a lemon. Bastards. I'm not black balled, but I'll never work here again. Whistle blowers usually either get turned into heros or out to pasture. I don't like grass much. But here I am ... out to pasture. And they got a restraining order so I can't even go to the site to visit my friends. I told them I wanted a copy of it here. They said I was served in absentia. That's shit. They have to put a copy of it in my hand."

Spike sighed. "Well, that's not exactly true. They only have to make sure you know that the order is in effect. It's nice if you actually get a copy of it but in this state not really necessary. But if there's a copy comin' I'll have the solicitor look at it. Damn. Fuckin' ... so you're out a job again. That so sucks."

Xander grinned a little at this example of his influence on his master then winced. "Well, fuck. Spike? I'm gonna have a bunch of money coming in. You invested most if my other bonuses and my other money. Will you take care of this? And ... now that I'm through making a baby of myself. I want to go shopping."

Spike didn't even blink at this rapid switch of emotions, Xander was very good at covering up. He decided to let it go this time. Xander didn't need more upset just now. But he was also going to make sure that Xander faced this emotional upheaval soon.

Xander followed Spike into a tunnel that led from the forbidden fourth level. Spike cautioned Xander not to be down here for frivolous reasons then led himinto the tunnel. They walked for about twenty minutes then Xander gasped. There was a complete 'open air' market here. All kinds of demons, vampires and humans had booths of various sizes offering everything you could think of.

Spike led Xander from one booth to another hoping to distract him from his lost job. It worked until they turned down one aisle and wound up in a second hand furniture booth.

The booth was really more of a store with quite a bit of very nice stuff. Xander was immediately attracted to some inlay. Spike decided to buy him whatever struck his fancy.

Xander picked through the pieces and set two aside. One was a very nice writing box/lap desk. The other was a large trunk. He ran his hand over the desk first then turned to the trunk.

When he tried to open it, it wouldn't budge. The owner of the booth came over and told him that the key was long lost but the work was so fine that he didn't have the heart to break it open.

Xander eyed it for a few moments then turned to Spike with a doubtful expression. "I don't know. The inlay is very nice. I could do something with it maybe. What do you think?"

Spike settled down to double team the booth owner. "Not sure. What could you do with a box that won't open?"

Xander motioned to the writing desk. "This is a nice piece. I think I'd like it for my own. But the trunk ... not sure ... I might be able to cut it up and make a couple of desks using that one for a pattern. But ... if I open it wrong, it'll shatter into bits. Might not be worth the trouble."

The booth owner saw his sale slipping through his fingers and rushed to bargain. "That's true. But High Master, it's such good work. It's decorative just as it is."

Spike realized that most of the beings in the market recognized him. He preened a bit then got back to business.

"Not interested in useless objects of doubtful art. My boy might like it, I might buy it for him ... if the price is right. Make me an offer."

The booth owner winced visibly, having to make the first offer put him at a definite disadvantage. He couldn't make too low an offer, they'd jump on it in an instant, but he couldn't make too high an offer either. They might take umbrage and walk away. So he sweated for a while, hemmed and hawed and finally gave his true asking price.

Xander just shrugged. "I want the desk, but we can let that trunk go easy as not. It's not worth much as it is. I'll either have to take the chance of breaking it to bits or saw the end off it. It's just what you think it's worth. I wouldn't pay that much if it opened."

Spike ran his tongue over his teeth with a smirk. "You heard my boy. I'll give you ... um ...' Spike named a figure less than half what the merchant asked. He grumbled and asked half again. Xander blinked slowly, "For both pieces."

Spike nodded. "Yeah. Both."

The merchant gave up. The twin beams of Spike's blue gaze and Xander's sharp brown glare was unnerving him. He agreed without a grumble. Xander silently cheered, he really wanted that trunk.

Spike arranged for the desk and trunk to be delivered and dragged Xander away to look at weapons and boots.

They didn't find much in the way of weapons. Xander was more knowledgeable than Spike had expected but he was easily fooled by flash. Spike had to dissuade him from buying a tin glazed mild steel gladius because he liked the pommel. Xander pouted a bit but brightened when Spike dragged him to a leather booth.

Xander fingered the leather carefully. "Seems strong enough. I want a pair of elf boots."

Spike winced, pointy-toed foot wear was not only cliche but inaccurate. No one really wore pointed toes outside of a harem. "You sure pet?"

"Yeah, I saw some in the corner over there, and I really like them. Soft soles, good traction. If you make the soles out of the right sort of leather, there's no problem with stepping on something and getting a stone bruise. And they're really quiet. I've got to get an edge on Master Bruce. I've got another round of training coming up. Might as well, since I lost my job I've got plenty of time. I'm getting really good. You've seen. And I'm going to get better yet. I want my ten dan. Now, boots. Yes or no."

Spike caved with good grace. "As long as you're not talking about those pointy-toed monstrosities ya see in movies, go for it."

So Xander picked out the leathers, got measured and led Spike out into the marketagain.

They wandered around for a while, watching the entertainments and poking into this and that.

Then it happened. Xander bumped into someone who turned out to be human and drunk. Spike stepped between them to try to reason the man out of a fight. He wasn't about to expose Xander to the risks of an all out marketplace brawl. The human punched him in the face, knocking him down and splitting his lip. Xander straddled him and punched the man back.

They were saved from any further embarrassment by the marketplace 'peace forcers' arriving and removing the obviously belligerent human. Spike brushed the whole thing off as nothing then dragged Xander back to their home. Snarling all the way.

Xander allowed himself to be dragged without protest. He realized that he was going to have to spring his second surprise sooner than he'd intended. He'd wanted to wait for Spike's Re-Birthday.


	15. Chapter 15

Ulterior Motives 15

Betaed by Skippyscatt

Xander tried to hide what he was doing and succeeded fairly well. Spike knew he was up to something but he also knew it was supposed to be a surprise for him. He had narrowed his eyes at Xander and announced, "Ok, pet. Remember wot I said." Xander had told him he remembered.

Xander worked hard, he was used to working on the site for eight to ten hours a day, more with overtime. He started with the stairs down to the gardens. They were old and needed work. He wasn't a welder but he could bolt the replacements together. After the stairs were replaced he started on the walkways.

Most of them were very well done, but some of them were a bit rickety. He pulled up all the access panels and examined everything under them. After he finished checking the construction and approving most of it, he sat down and started a 'to-do' list.

It was annoying that Spike absolutely refused to let him go down to the lower levels until he'd made sure that Xander had help. But Xander had to admit that what he was doing was dangerous, especially replacing the stairs.

This day was especially annoying as there was no one to help him until after noon. Xander told Spike the truth, he was going to go down to the garden level and enjoy it. He was also going to explore a bit.

Xander went out to his truck and opened one of the tool chests. He rummaged for a moment then found what he was looking for, his good nine-cell flashlight. He didn't intend to go exploring in the nether regions of this place without it.

He went back through the main hall, past Spike's office and into his own. He got a tablet and pencil, sticking them in a thigh pocket of his cargo pants, he told Timmins exactly where he was going to be, more or less. Timmins glanced up from his baking and nodded his understanding.

Xander clomped down the new stairs to the first landing and opened the door. He knew this level was unused as he'd poked around a little when they'd put in the staircase. Now he was going to take the time to explore thoroughly, alone.

He was going alone because every demon and vampire in the place seemed to think he was completely helpless and he was getting sick of it. He was going to have a talk with Master Bruce about working on his next level soon. Right now he was only interested in one thing. Snooping around.

He had to admit that he liked it, snooping. He opened doors, boxes, and trunks just to see what was in them. He'd found good things and some really freaky things. He should have been put off long ago but he wasn't.

Xander opened the door and stepped into the musty dark, turned on the flashlight and started snooping.

The first thing he looked for was light switches. There should be some somewhere near the door. Or at least you would think so. Then he realized that the switches were probably at the other end of the hall. He sighed and headed in that direction.

The hall wasn't very long so I didn't take Xander long to reach the other end. He tried the light switches and was glad to find that they worked. He wondered at the stupidity of constructing a floor that had switches on the opposite end of a main hall from the entry point. After a little grumbling he realized that this end of the hall was probably meant to be the main entry. He decided to explore farther before he condemned the architect to the ranks of the terminally dumb.

He opened the door and carefully climbed the stairs to the upper level. He came out in the back of what turned out to be a 1920's full service gas station. He nearly drooled. One of the main features of the station was a floor to ceiling, curved glass block wall.

One end of the wall was anchored to the front windows, which were boarded up, the other was free, creating the alcove that sheltered the front door. The ceiling was a skylight.

Xander walked around envisioning the sunny room he was going to create out of the filling station. He could put in an orchardarium with a fountain and seating. He nearly squealed with delight but he was too manly. He had to laugh at himself. Damn it, he was High Master Spike's thrall and he'd squeal if he wanted to. So he did, doing a Snoopy dance just because he could.

He spent an hour looking around then headed back for the stairs. As he walked, he heard a strange scratching noise from one of the side rooms. He decided to check it out, if there were rats, he'd send some of the minions to catch them. Spike hated rats and would have a fit if he saw one in their home.

Xander opened the door and sighed. "Fuck! Just what I need right now. Glowing, ball of light, bug hive thingy. Shit!"

Xander eyed the ball of light with an expression of mingled disgust and annoyance. He walked around it carefully. He didn't touch it but he did step on every bug he could. After his walk around he knew enough to just step right on the orb and crush it. He wasn't sure where it had come from but he knew that it was a simple portal that was controlled by a small glass orb 'target', crushing the glass was all that he needed to do to close the gate. He fished around in his tool belt until he found the can of roach spray he always carried. A quick spray proved that it worked so he sprayed it liberally, killing all the bugs in the room.

He checked the walls and splash guards around the edges of the room for escapees. There were none so he holstered his 'weapon' and went in search of Spike.

Spike was settled at his desk and frowning at a parchment when Xander walked in.

"Hey, what is that? Is it something for me?"

Spike handed the parchment to Xander who glanced at it and shook his head. "Not a chance. I don't do 'dark arts'. Whoever sent this is messing with some powerfully bad mojo. Send it back."

Spike smirked his satisfaction at Xander. "Good boy. I'll just nip that back to sender with a polite no."

Xander snorted. "Don't think I don't recognize the G-man's hand writing. I'll send him a note. I'm not caving. If they can't get in touch with me first, they're not the friends I thought they were. Stick me with you, not that I mind, then don't even think of all the nasty things you could be ordering me to do. I could be a sex slave in a demon whore house for all they really know." Xander started pacing, waving his arms. Spike caught him before he got up a head of steam.

"Easy, pet. I'm on your side. You go write your letter to the Wanker and bring it back to me. I'll make sure that he gets it. Scoot now."

So, in all the excitement, Xander forgot about the glowing orb and the scarab beetles. Instead he turned his mind to writing Giles his refusal, in cuneiform and hieratic, just to stab home his point.

When he returned with the missive, Xander had to smile. Spike was sitting behind his desk wearing his glasses. He looked serious and handsome. Xander thought he looked more like an up and coming junior executive than a Master Vampire and the master of the Hellmouth.

"Here's the note. You wanna read it go ahead." Xander smirked.

Spike glanced at the note and snickered. "I'll have you know that I can read hieratic ... with a lot of study. The cuneiform is beyond my skills. Here. You might like to read mine."

Xander accepted the note, written in Latin and Greek. "Don't do Latin. The letters crawl around too much. The Greek I can do. Give me a sec."

Spike watched in amazement as Xander glanced over the Greek easily, frowned at the Latin but managed fairly well.

"You've really given him an ass reaming. Serves him right. I can't help but think that he could have paid more attention to me. I don't deserve it but ... I'm supposed to be a Scooby. He should have ... I'm not exactly sure what. But he could at least have looked at that spell before it was too late."

Spike gathered Xander into his arms and shushed him. "Listen, pet. You do deserve it. You deserve to be treated with respect. You're bloody brilliant. You read all three ancient Egyptian writings, cuneiform, several demon languages, Latin, Greek. What else?" Spike didn't wait for an answer. "You're smart, just not ... well educated. American educational system being what it is, I'm not surprised. So shut that." Xander unashamedly cuddled with Spike for a moment then pulled away.

"Ok. So ... you know that Giles is going to have a thing if someone doesn't translate that mess. Let me give it another quick look. I really want to see what it's for. We might just want to keep it. Ya know?"

Spike thought for a moment as he pulled the text from its protective over sleeve. "Not thought of that. What if it's some kind of spell to ... turn me into a shrimp or a bat or summat?"

Xander suddenly looked more like a vampire in a temper than anything else. "Not on my watch, they're not. Now let me take a look."

Xander held out his hand and Spike just handed the smelly thing over without comment. Xander settled at the edge of Spike's desk and pulled a handy legal pad close. He wrote quickly, in shorthand, then handed the parchment and pad back to Spike.

"It's a spell to find a locus. What's a locus?"

"It's a place that's the focus of magic of some sort or other. In this case dark magics. Take dark to find dark. How easy is it going to be for the watcher and his little gang to translate that."

Xander pulled at his lower lip for a moment. "Well ... Willow might manage with help from the net. Giles can for sure, but it'll take him quite a while. He'll have to use reference books." Xander gave Spike a self-satisfied smirk. "Books that I've memorized. Give him three weeks and he'll have a rough draft." Xander got up. "Look, I've got a three day session with Master Bruce and ... " Xander looked at Spike from under his bangs.

"Oi, out with it. What?" Spike gave Xander an exasperated and affectionate look that made Xander feel warm below the belt.

"Ok. I was exploring because I didn't have any help. I don't want my butt blistered for doing construction work without help. So, I found an old filling station. It's got one of those great retro glass block walls, a sky light and the register counter is a great display case. I thought I could turn it into a small orchardarium and use the case to house African violets. The back room is nice too. Little office I could use as a garden office. And the bays are still functional. We do need a new hydraulic cylinder but that's easy to come by. And I really want a place to work on my truck. I don't trust Arnold to really do it right. And did I mention that my truck smells funny?"

Spike snorted. "If you want it, I'll get it for you. You do up a plan and we'll see what's what. An' if ya wanna work on your own truck, I'll have one of the bays fixed up for you. You don't work on that truck alone either. Don't want the lift fallin' on ya. Hear?"

Xander nodded. "I hear. You're right. Now." Xander glanced at his watch. "I'll be in time for Master Bruce if I leave now. Bye." Xander gave Spike an unexpected peck on the cheek as he walked by.

Spike smiled at that and returned to his desk to see to the mailing of the parchment, but not the translations. He chuckled as he tucked them into a file and put the file in his file drawer.

Giles read the cover letter with a sour expression. Spike was rubbing his nose in the fact that the translator belonged to him and he was enforcing the beings' refusal to translate the parchment. In fact the being had sent a list of things that he wouldn't touch. It included anything on human skin or sentient demon skin, anything moldy or rotten and especially anything pertaining to dark arts. Giles sighed. That included almost all of the things he couldn't easily translate himself. Although, he didn't blame the being for not wanting to mess around with that. His experience with Eygon had taught him a lesson long ago.

Buffy wandered in and flopped onto a chair. "Well that was a real water haul. There's not a thing stirring. I swear, I really want to meet the new master. If he's got the Hellmouth this much under his thumb, I really have a chance to graduate college in four years. So ... do we go see him to get that translator guy to do his job or what?"

Giles rubbed his forehead irritably. "Have you called Xander? Please tell me you have."

Buffy looked guilty. "No, I ... got sidetracked. I'll call him tomorrow."

Giles slammed the book he was looking at down with a resounding thwack. "You'll call him immediately. I've been after you for the last week to call. And Willow as well. I don't understand what the matter is. I removed the protection part of the spell. I know I did. But none of you even try to call him."

Buffy gave Giles an indignant look then snapped, "Oh, and I suppose, Mr. Grumpy pants, that you've just been burning up the wires, chattering away."

Giles froze, an arrested expression on his face. "No, I haven't. Very well. I'll be the one to break the ice. Although, I have to say that I think it should be one of you but here goes."

Giles picked up the phone and called the number Spike had given him.

He didn't have long to wait. The phone only rang twice.

"Alexander Harris's office. How may I help you?"

"Giles here. May I speak to Xander please?" Giles struggled to control his surprise, Xander had a secretary? He was successful but only barely.

"He's in training right now. That's the only reason I'm answering the phone. He prefers to get verbal messages from the answering machine. So if you call and get the machine it's not that unusual. I'll see if I can get him to the phone, unless you'd rather he called you back."

Giles bit at his lip then decided. "I'll wait."

It didn't take long for Giles to hear Xander's voice. "I'll take it at my desk. Thanks, Syl."

There was a scuffling noise then Xander said, "Giles. Hello." and waited.

"Mr. Giles. How are you?"

"Um ... I'm fine. Your secretary said you were training?"

Xander shuffled some papers. "Yes, I'm taking my final training with a bokken. Master Bruce says I'm ready for the real thing. He's starting me on a tachi tomorrow."

"Oh, well, Xander. Don't you think that's a bit dangerous? I mean. You might hurt yourself."

Xander made a rude noise. "I won't hurt myself, or if I do, I deserve it because I got careless. And Spike will beat my ass for it. Now ... what was it you wanted? Because if all you're going to do is insult me and my Sensei, I've got a workout to complete."

Giles realized that he was just making a bad situation worse. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you. You said you're getting lessons from a master? Should I know him?"

Xander kept hold of his temper with an effort. "No, not unless you keep track of all the undead ten dan's running around."

Giles gulped audibly. "Please don't tell me your martial arts master is Bruce Chen."

"Ok, I won't. Is there anything else you want?"

Giles decided now was not the time to go into the qualifications of Master Chen. "Yes, Spike, as master of the Hellmouth has a translator. I'd really like for him to look at a few parchments and some scrolls. But he seems reluctant. If you could just speak to Spike or even the translator. Id really appreciate it."

Xander bit at his lip then decided to just make a clean breast of it. "I don't think it'll do much good. You keep sending black arts and stinky stuff. Neither of which I want anything to do with. And stop it. Ok? Spike's getting pissed."

"Xander, are you telling me you're the one who's been doing all these translations?"

"Well, duh. I always have been. You assumed that Willow was doing them and I never bothered to tell you different."

"Why not? I'd think you'd want the credit for your work."

"I tried once. You nearly called me a liar right to my face. So I gave up before there was a fight."

"I see. Well, it seems I owe you two apologies. One for ... er ... leaving you hanging and another for allowing Willow to take credit for your work. I am sorry."

Xander sighed. "Ok, apology accepted. But don't send me any stinky scrolls, nothing on human or sentient demon skin and I really hate Latin, the letters all seem to crawl around. Especially when I'm tired anyway. Ok?"

Giles sighed audibly. "Very well. But that means that all the scrolls I'm having the most trouble with are on your, I believe you called it, no-no list."

"Sorry, but that's the way it is. And ... no never mind. Look, call me day after tomorrow. I'll be in seclusion for the next two days. Master Bruce doesn't like being interrupted, in fact, he made a special exception for this call. And I've got a hundred sit ups, crunches, pull ups and pushups to do to pay for it. Then, if I know him, and I do, he's going to have me do a hundred of each Ate. Then he'll probably think of some reason to cane me, just on general principles. _And_ I have to be in court on Friday. Damn, no rest for the wicked. Gotta go."

Xander hung up with a snicker, thinking 'that'll fix him.' and headed back for the dojo. Spike, who had been unashamedly eavesdropping, nearly hurt himself trying not to laugh until Xander hung up.

Giles hung the phone up very gently and glared at it for a moment. Buffy took one look at Giles's face and snarled, 'I'll kill Spike, I swear.'

"No. I've just been told off by Xander. I ... did you know that Xander is the one who did most, if not all, of the translations we credited to Willow?" Buffy's head jerked up and she gave Giles a wide-eyed look. "Yes. He said he just let her take the credit because he didn't want to start a 'thing.' And he's the one I've been sending my translations to. He's been refusing them because he doesn't do what he calls dark arts. And stinky things."

Giles pinned Buffy with a very odd look. "And he's taking martial arts lessons from Bruce Chen. His name was different several years ago, but he changed it for some reason. His former name translates as Dragon Teacher. He's the best of the best in the world. Never go up against him. All your slayer strength and speed won't do you any good at all." Giles grumbled into his tea cup. 'I just hope Spike knows what he's doing.'

Buffy sighed and squirmed. She was embarrassed, she was supposed to be Xander's friend, she was supposed to protect him from the things that went bump in the night. Instead she'd been a bad friend and lazy. She'd turned him over to the Big Bad. Willow was still researching how to fix this but she was more and more convinced that it was too late. Buffy was sure it was.

"So, again with the questions. We can't reverse this?" Giles shook his head. "If I stake Spike it's really bad?"

"It's bad on a factor of one hundred. You can't stake Spike. You'll kill Xander. And if you stake the master of the Hellmouth you'll break a cotenant that has lasted a thousand years. Then you'll be fighting every demon clan and tribe on Earth." Giles finished his tea and set his cup down with determination. "Now. You will call Xander right now and leave a message with his secretary or on his machine. Say whatever you please, but call." Buffy bit at her lip. Giles glared at her and said sternly. "I'm waiting."

Buffy grumbled a bit but obediently made the call. She got the secretary but was told that Xander couldn't be called out of his training session again. Sylvia took a message, carefully recording it on a handheld recorder, her compromise between Xander's request that she let the machine pick up and her sense of duty. It was working quite well. She recorded the messages and sent them to Xander's computer where they were stored, sorted and qued for Xander to review.

Willow peeked into the Magic Box and the sidled in the door. Tara poked her firmly in the back making her skip into the room to get away from the tickle.

"Tara! Stop that. I'm in. I'm in all ready."

"Good. Now tell."

Willow sighed. "Ok. Don't poke me, I'm telling."

Giles rubbed wearily at his temple, pulled his glasses off and started polishing them. He really didn't want to hear this. He was fairly sure that Willow was going to confess to some new magical faux pass.

"Well ... um ... I ... er." Willow eeped as Tara swatted her.

"Willow ... is afraid to confess that she did a magic on me. To cure my stutter. It worked. But she also did a scrying spell. It didn't work ... um ... the way she thought it would."

Giles ground his teeth. "Willow, if I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times. Don't mess with magic. You're much too young and inexperienced to go about casting spells willy nilly. You'll wind up in real trouble one day and I'm not powerful enough to pull you back from an abys."

Willow stared at her feet like there were answers there. "I'm sorry. I just ... well ... Tara's anti-stuttering spell worked fine. Sympathetic magic. Earth magic. And the scrying spell didn't backfire or anything like that it was just that I was so worried about Xander and I want so bad to make up to him for all the trouble I've caused ... Spike for goddess sake ... so I thought if I could scry to see what was happening but all I did was get a really rotten prophecy that if we separate Spike and Xander something really really bad will happen. Something really, really, really bad. In an apocalyptic bad bad. And I don't like it and I want my Xander back only he's mad at me and I'm scared to call him because I'll have to talk to Spike and all I want to do is hug Xander and get him to forgive me and what is Spike doing to him while I'm researching futility and ..."

Giles finally got Willow's attention by clearing his throat so loudly that he made it hurt. "Willow. Please stop. I can't keep up. I'm sure that Spike isn't doing anything too bad to Xander. Spike is the new master of the Hellmouth so having a human thrall is reinforcing his status no end. And exactly what did the prophecy say?"

Willow sighed, inched into the nearest seat and started picking at her cuticles. Tara patted her fingers away from each other.

"Well, it was really kind of vague. All I really got out of it was that Xander does or doesn't do something and that makes Spike not do something really bad. Like crack the world bad. He's ... a keystone of some kind."

Giles sighed and Buffy grumbled. "Well isn't that just peachy. Neato keeno. I'm going patrolling. You see what you can come up with will you, Giles. I'm going crazy here."

Giles just nodded, picked up a book of prophecy and started reading. He stopped long enough to pin Willow with his patented 'pissed off librarian cum Ripper' look. "No more magic without checking with me first. Or else." then he stuck his nose back in the book.

Willow immediately began babbling again. "Or else? Or else what? What can he do? Tara? He wouldn't do anything really bad? Would he? Giles? What or else?"

Giles looked up from his book again. "Or else I'll call the witches council in England and have your powers bound until you learn discretion. Now, call Xander. You won't get him as he's training with one of the toughest and best martial artists in about six centuries. But call and leave a message. You better hope you get called back. He's not best pleased with any of us right now." He turned his gaze on Tara. "You too, young lady."

So Willow and Tara both called and left messages. Tara just said she was sorry that she'd contributed in any way to his troubles. Willow left a Willow babble that confused Sylvia so much that she started recording directly after the first ten words. Giles shook his head and worried.

Xander returned to the dojo and settled back into seiza. He was going to have to do some serious thinking.

"You're thinking hard, young master. What about?" Master Bruce settled across from Xander. He knew about the phone call of course. But he didn't know how Xander was reacting to it.

"Well, that was Giles. I gave him a piece of my mind. But . . . I ... he was supposed to be my ... protector? Something. I'm confused, pissed, and I ... really, really wanna kill something. I'm angry. And I'm not sure why."

Bruce helped Xander work his way through his confusion and encouraged him to express what he felt, not what he thought he ought to feel. Xander finally shrugged. "I'm tired. I don't want to think about it anymore. Spike treats me better than my so-called friends ever did. He gives me stuff and treats me like, well, like an equal. He expects me not to fuck up. They just expect me to be the Zeppo. He expects me to ... be ... I'm not sure what. But I know that I want to be it. He says he's got ulterior motives but I kinda think I might like them. And I'm so not gay. I think."

Bruce had the wisdom not to respond to that particular bit of idiocy. Instead he got Xander back on track and working on his kata. The martial arts master watched Xander carefully, swords were nothing to fool around with. He noticed that Xander held the tachi like a master, this was good, he'd only had to show Xander twice, about half the number of times he'd' been shown himself. Xander paid attention when he was spoken to and didn't let his dick get in the way of learning. He never acted like he knew something he didn't.

"Xander, choke back on the hilt a bit. Your grip is starting to drift too far forward." Bruce got up from his zabuton to go to Xander and help him adjust his grip. "Now. I don't want, what you call, punishment exercises. But I do want a good workout. You need to practice your cuts. I've set up some targets for you to work out with. First, do your kata, then put your sword up and get the bokken. I don't want you cutting yourself if you miss a strike."

Xander sighed but obediently started on his kata. It was long and difficult but he'd mastered it well. So he went through it once, listened to Master Bruce's corrections and went through it again. This time the exercise satisfied the meticulous master and he told Xander to go through it four more times.

Xander groaned to himself, six run throughs was going to kill him. But he started on his first run through.

Master Bruce smiled to himself. He'd never seen a more stubborn man in his entire life and unlife. But Xander was getting very good, so good that Bruce decided that he'd have second thoughts about going up against him with a sword in his hands.

Xander completed the last kata and settled into a kneeling position. It was either that or fall down. His legs felt like jelly and his arms were so heavy they trembled. But he felt good. He was getting really good. He could tell by the way Master Bruce looked at him.

"Very well. Excellent. I'm impressed. Most humans would be out cold. Rest a bit and then I'll start you on the next phase of your training." Master Bruce settled into a kneel, facing Xander. "This step is to teach you the feel of a sword striking something. It's entirely different from a kata. There's a ... resistance. Cutting flesh is different from this as well."

Xander accepted the towel that a minion brought him and wiped his face. "Yeah, I know. Creepy."

Bruce blinked. "I don't appreciate that."

Xander gave him a blank look. "Sorry?"

"How would you know what cutting flesh feels like?"

"Um ... Scooby here? Been cutting demons and vampires and oogity boogity's since I was 16. Not fun. Nearly been killed a few times. No thanks to anyone except Spike for a rescue."

It took Bruce a moment to sort that out then he grunted, stood up and went to get a bokken, hiding his anger from Xander. He wondered what the hell the watcher was thinking. The boy deserved to be trained properly.

"Here. Bokken. Treat it like a 'real' sword. If you mess up I'll stripe you. I won't have you cutting your leg half off." Bruce led Xander to the sword dummy, which looked like a heavy bag only on a pole instead of suspended from the ceiling. He demonstrated the different strikes as they were used against a target and watched as Xander copied him. He corrected a few flaws in Xander form then told him, "Fifty of each cut. When you get good enough you'll do tameshigiri. Hajime."

Xander obeyed the command and began. He started with the first of the eight sword cuts, after the cuts there were eight guards or defenses. All other cuts were elaborations on the basics. He knew that Master Bruce was going to be really particular about his form so he worked carefully to be sure to do them correctly.

Master Bruce looked up from his reading when Xander stopped working. "Something?"

Xander shook his head, spraying sweat. "No, just stopped to get a drink. I don't want to get dehydrated." Xander picked up a bottle of water and opened it. It had been setting on the floor just long enough. He didn't like to drink water that was ice cold. It upset his stomach.

"Mmmmm, good. Sensei?" Master Bruce grunted. "Why are you teaching me Kendo instead of a Chinese form?"

"Good question. I was wondering when you'd ask. The answer is because it's better suited to your mentality. I'll teach you the Ryu Sui Sen. You'll be good enough in a few months. Now, finish your water and get back to work."

Xander obediently did as he was told.

By the time he was done with his practice he was completely exhausted and ready to drop. Master Bruce regretted what came next but he'd regret it even more if Xander wound up dead because his master slacked in his training.

"Get up. Now!"

Xander groaned but struggled to his feet. "I'm up. What do you want?"

Bruce hid a smile. The man had guts. Most students would have been silent, Xander snarked.

"What do I want? One, a little less insolence. Two, you will perform each Ate perfectly. I will watch. If you fail to perform correctly, you will receive one stroke of the cane. Take off your gi please."

Xander just dumped his gi kimon on the floor and readied himself. He knew Master Bruce was going to be picky and he knew why. You couldn't just tell the demon you were fighting that you were tired and a mistake because of exhaustion could be your last.

Master Bruce called, "Suburi Ipponme" Xander performed the cut. He went through the entire eight cuts of the basic form; calling each name in a sharp, crisp command. Suburi Nihonme, Suburi sanbanme, Suburi Yonhonme, Suburi gohonme, Suburi schichiponme, Suburi hachiponme. Xander did fine until Master Bruce came to the simple 45-degree angle cut. The only one named in English. He fumbled the cut disastrously, tripping himself.

He received the ultimate reprimand. "Dame! Heta! Where's your head?!"

Xander bent over from the waist, panting for air. He straightened as soon as he caught his breath. Master Bruce waited impatiently.

"Up my ass, I guess. I don't believe it. I'm not that clumsy. Sorry."

"You will be. Bend back over."

Xander didn't argue. He just bent over to receive one hard lash of a bamboo cane. This continued until Xander literally collapsed in exhaustion. Master Bruce settled beside Xander, counted the lash marks and said, "Only ten. You did very well and I'm so proud of you. I'm going to call Master Spike."

Xander rolled over, resting his burning back on the cool floor. "Just get me to my ... our quarters. I'll clean up and get some rest. He'll have fit."

Master Bruce didn't pretend he didn't know what Xander was talking about. He just shrugged. "I have Master Spike's permission. He understands the need for through training. Especially in your position. You're being groomed for something more than being a thrall. I won't say 'simple' because you're not." Xander made a rude noise. "I'll smack you. You're one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen. And don't be stupid. I'll call Master Spike and let the chips fall where they may."

Xander gave up, he was too tired to argue and he couldn't deny that he really wanted Spike.

When Spike got Master Bruce's message he just got up from his desk and headed for the dojo. He'd known that Master Bruce was planning this and had prepared for it. He just hadn't known it was today or he'd have been there to watch. He loved watching Xander train. Especially when it was the extreme training that Xander had agreed to under go. Spike mumbled, "Wanking watcher. Should have trained the boy proper. But he's glorious, moves like some kinda big cat. Loverly."

Spike took the long corridor at a dead run, never mind the others in the way they either moved or went down. He skidded around the last corner just in time to hear Xander exclaim in a plaintive tone, "I don't want to be carried. I can walk. I want to be in bed when Spike comes. I want the massage he promised. If he sees me, he'll make me go to sleep. Shit!"

Spike managed his easy saunter with some effort but for Xander he'd manage. "Well, pet, here you're a bit knackered came to take you off to bed. Massage, have a bit to eat. Take a nap. Sound good?"

Xander sighed. "Yeah, sounds real good. I'll be up in a second."

Spike snorted. "Sure about that?"

Xander grumbled. "I'm sure. Not gonna catch me havin' to be carried off the battle field like ... like a Zeppo. Ok?"

Spike quickly realized that it was a matter of pride to Xander to get to the rooms on his own. So he decided to help Xander.

"Ok, pet, up and at 'em." He reached out and gave Xander a hand up then tucked his shoulder under Xander's. Xander took the hand up gratefully, leaning on Spike with a sigh.

"Thanks. Just go slow, ok? I feel like I've been ... well ... run though a wringer."

They took their time getting back to their quarters. On the way, Spike stopped a minion and issued orders telling the woman to hurry ahead and tell Timmins to make preparations. She took off at a dead run, scared by spikes fierce glare.

"Well, that was interesting. You know your eyes turn real yellow when you get pissed?"

"Yeah, pet, demon's real near the surface. You're hurtin' an' I don't like it."

Xander sighed. "Well, I'm not real happy myself, but we'd both be a lot less happy if I manage to get myself killed because I'm not trained. Right?"

Spike admitted that he agreed but grumbled, "Right, right. But I don't have to like it."

Timmins met them at the door. He bowed then announced. "All the preparations were made. You really didn't have to send that silly chit to remind me." He managed to look discretely miffed.

Spike just shrugged. "Probably not now that I think about it. But I was more interested in takin' care of my boy. Stuff your hurt feelin's and help me."

Timmins just nodded and came to help Xander, who was stiffening up enough that he was not interested in bending over or doing much of anything. Two days of constant training with only a few scattered naps had taken their tole.

Spike held Xander's swaying form as Timmins undressed him. The soft hiss that Timmins let out when he saw Xander's back made Spike ease around to see for himself.

"Blast and damn, did he have to give you ten?"

Xander avoided shrugging. "Yes, one for each mistake I made. It's not that bad. I've had a lot worse for much less. Can I get in the bath now? Before I freeze in place?" Xander gazed longingly at the hot tub. He knew it was going to hurt his back but the rest of him wanted in the tub, now.

"Half a tick. I've got that new cream from the healer. He said it'd cure any bruise on a human."

Xander wanted that cream badly but he was honest with himself and Spike. "Are you sure? Maybe I shouldn't."

Spike snorted. "Know just what you're thinkin'. And I'm vetoin' any thought of not easin' that punishment. You're mine and I've got the final say. Shut it."

Xander just shut up, eased down on the stool Timmins set for him and enjoyed the feel of the cool cream on his heated skin. When he eased into the tub, the lash marks had already eased. There was some residual bruising but nothing that either Xander or Spike found to be a problem.

Spike sat on the stool by the tub side and got Xander to explain what the lesson had been about. Xander talked and reveled in the attention. Spike was truly interested in what he had to say. He didn't cut him off or scoff at his theories. In fact, he mostly just listened, making appropriate noises or asking questions.

Spike settled across Xander's thighs and eyed his back. The faint marks were brownish, fading bruises. Not a problem. He poured oil into his hand, placed the bottle back in the wine cooler filled with warm water and began to massage Xander.

He started at his shoulders and found every knot and sore spot. He used his thumbs and the heel of his hand to coax and coerce them into submission. Xander groaned and moaned.

As Spike worked his way down Xander's back, he had to smile. Xander had hidden an amazing body under those banished baggy clothes. Who would have thought?

"Great body you got, pet."

"Thanks. Just glad pop never realized. He's got some almighty perverted friends."

Spike had to sit back before he hurt Xander. 'Bloody hell!'

"Don't worry. I'm still a virgin. Except for ... er ... things. You know?"

Spike stemmed a spate of babble by pouring more oil on Xander and returning to his massage. He eased down Xander's body until he was sitting on the foot of the bed.

"Done with your back, roll over so I can do the front."

Xander obediently rolled. Spike took one high arched foot in his hands and began to massage the arch with both thumbs. Xander melted into a puddle on the bed. He loved having his feet rubbed more than anything. Spike took his time working first one foot then the other until Xander was nearly asleep. Spike worked his way up Xander's front, massaging his abdomen then his chest. When he ran his oil slick hand over Xander's nipples, Xander sighed. Spike grinned to himself.

"Sensitive, are they? You like it?" Spike stroked very gentle circles around first one nipple then the other.

"Mmmm, yeah, I do. Don't tell."

"Why ever not? Not that this is any of anyone's business but ours."

Xander managed to look languid and embarrassed at the same time. "Only girls like it."

Spike nearly hurt himself forcing down the laughter. "That's just stupid. Who told you only bints like it? I like it. Do I look like a bint to you?"

Xander opened one eye. "No. You like ... um ... well, that?"

Spike pinched one slick nipple gently. "Yeah. I do. Like havin' 'em pinched, pulled, sucked. Nice. Maybe you'll feel like doin' it sometime." Xander started to rise. "Not now. You're all tuckered out. This is for you. Just relax and enjoy. If it hurts or I do something you don't like, tell me."

Xander just relaxed back in the bed and enjoyed Spike's touch. If Spike said it was ok, it was. And Spike had promised not to make fun of his sexual needs. Ever, for any reason. Xander trusted Spike's word in a way he'd never trusted anyone before.

Spike took hold of one of Xander's ankles and eased his foot flat on the bed. "Move the other and let your knees fall apart." Xander lazily complied. "There's a pet."

"What are you going to do? Not that I'm in any mood or shape to fight. Just curious."

Spike laughed softly. "You would fight too, wouldn't ya? But I'd really rather you didn't. Don't want ta compel you but I will if I have ta. I'm gonna finger fuck that sweet rose of yours."

Xander blinked, translated this into regular English and smiled. "Ok. You know you sound like a real Victorian sometimes. Will I like it?"

Spike poured oil on his hand while remarking quite reasonably. "Am a Victorian. An' I noticed that you don't go up in flames when I use old euphemisms. If ya don't like it, I'm doin' it wrong."

Xander obeyed when Spike told him to lift his hips then lowered himself onto the pillow. Spike explained exactly what he was doing as he did it. Xander stopped listening as Spike eased his finger into him. It felt strange, having something pushed into him like that. The plugs had been unyielding, stretching him by force. This was different in a very good way.

"Ya like that?" All Xander could do was groan. Spike smirked and worked his finger in and out until the muscles yielded to him. By then Xander was shivering all over. Not a fear filled tremble, just a slight tremor. "Good. Relax now. I'm gonna put in another."

Xander whimpered as Spike slipped in the next finger, he definitely wasn't in pain. Spike parted his fingers, stretching Xander more. Xander shifted, a slight frown between his eyebrows. Spike eased off and the frown disappeared.

"Too much, pet? Well, you'll like this, I think." Spike felt around carefully until he found Xander's prostate. He rubbed the pad of one finger across it, watching as Xander nearly hurled himself off the bed.

"Holy crap. What was that? Oh, mu god. Do that again."

Spike obliged and continued to alternately massage Xander's prostate and stretch his stiff muscles until Xander came with a yell that scared several minions into hiding.

Spike smiled and cleaned him up, then crawled into the bed.

"Spike? Don't you want me to ... do something for you? You gotta be needy."

"Not really. Had a good wank while you were dozed off. This was for you."

Xander levered himself up onto one elbow so he could look down at Spike. "But ... why? You have needs too. I could do ... something. You tell me and I'll try."

Spike smiled. "Master Vampire here. Got lots of self-control and whatnot. And I really don't want you doin' stuff just because I want it. Now lay down and sleep. You're so tired you'd probably bite it off, or fall asleep in the middle of things. Neither of which will please me any at all."

Xander admitted that Spike was probably right. He lay back down but grumbled, "Well, ok, but I owe you one. Evil undead wanker. What are you up to?"

Spike pulled Xander to him and curled around him. "Up to no good. Got ulterior motives. Been tellin' ya that all along."

Xander snorted and fell asleep. Spike followed him.

1) Suburi Ipponme (first overhead cut)  
2) Suburi Nihonme ( second overhead cut)  
3) Suburi sanbanme (cut and move backwards)  
4) Suburi Yonhonme (turn blade and thrust up)  
5) Suburi gohonme (straight thrust)  
6) 45 degree angle cut (down from kasumi)  
7) Suburi schichiponme (side cut)8) Suburi hachiponme ( rising cut)  
Dame - Wrong, not like that

Heta - poorly done, not skillful

These two words are the most dreaded in any dojo.

Why is Bruce teaching Xander Japanese arts in Japanese? Because I'm not familiar with Chinese style fighting technics and I am familiar with Japanese.


	16. Chapter 16

Ulterior Motives 16

Giles snarled softly, he wasn't pleased at all. The Council was pushing him to make direct contact with the Master of the Hellmouth. He didn't want to go to a vampiric court, especially since he knew that Willow, Tara and Buffy would insist on going too. He fingered the letter for a moment then tossed it down on the round table in the corner of the Magic Box and forgot about it.

Ten minutes later he was wishing he hadn't. Buffy had found it and read it. Now she was demanding to be allowed to come with him when he went to court.

"Buffy, if I do let you come, and I'm really not sure I should. You can't disrespect Spike. If you do, he'll have to respond in order to keep control of the court. I don't want to deal with it. I'm supposed to, I believe the phrase is, mend fences with Spike. You causing a scene won't do that."

Buffy didn't pout, she just shrugged. "I won't start anything. If he can control himself, I can do the same. And you know that Willow will want to go. Try turning down the puppy dog eyes of doom. I dare you."

Giles polished his glasses and sighed. "Good lord, how does that girl do that? She manages to look like it's the end of everything. But she never looks like that when it really is."

Buffy shrugged. "Haven't a clue. I've practiced and practiced and I've never managed to master it. My lip doesn't tremble right."

Giles gave Buffy a stunned look. "Are you sitting there, telling me that you practice that look? Heaven help us all."

"Yes."

Giles just picked up a book and stuck his nose in it. He wasn't dealing with this, at all, ever. The ways of American girls were incomprehensible at times. And this was one of them.

Buffy cheerfully dumped her books on the table, and as she sorted through them, she remarked. "Well don't have a spaz. We'll figure it all out. Or, you will."

Xander had eaten a huge breakfast, had a short interview with Master Bruce, and was now seated at his desk. He took one look at the work load and grumbled, "How the hell did I go from a carpenter to a translator of demony gobbledy gook? And messages? Neat idea, have to compliment Syl on that. And what happened to the first lady?"

Sylvia was standing in the door and heard. "I think she went out and never came back. Slayer got her."

Xander sighed, rubbed his face with one hand and just settled in his chair. "That sucks. Tell you what. See if you can't get yourself used to bagged stuff. I really don't want to lose you. Ok?"

Sylvia smiled. "Um ... I never did human. I like dog." Xander blinked at her then made a face. "It works." Sylvia shrugged, handed Xander the tape recorder and left.

Xander listened to his messages and thought hard. Buffy's message was short and contained an apology and a bit of rambling about how she was in college and yada yada yada. Tara's made him smile. All she said was she was sorry and to call her if he was over being mad. He couldn't be mad at Tara, she'd always done her best but she was a follower and in love with Willow. Willow's message just irritated him. She babbled, wibbled and whined. She managed to somehow blame it all on either Spike, bad karma or his own incompetence. Xander shrugged his irritation off.

He picked up the phone and called Tara first.

"Hi, Tara. Just wanted to call you first."

Tara blinked for a second then just replied softly. "Oh, hello. I'm glad. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

Tara sniffled a bit. "Sad. I'm sorry. I should have made Willow ... do something."

Xander snorted. "And how could you do that? Willow in stubborn head mode is immovable. She should have wanted to do something instead of trying to shove it under the rug. I'm still a bit pissed at her. But I forgive you. I'm sure if you'd realized you'd have been more insistent. Right?"

Tara allowed that she would have. They visited a bit more then Xander asked to speak to Buffy if she was there. She was and had been nearly dancing with impatience.

"Xander! I'm so sorry. I really am. But what I was supposed to do I don't know. Not a mojo person. Give me something to kill, I'm good. Stinky weeds and glowy things and I'm sunk. So anyway, you tell Spike I said be good to you or else. Ok? And Willow's nearly snatching the phone out of my hand so are we good or what?"

Xander allowed that they were as good as they were going to get for a while and said to put Willow on.

Willow took the phone and said, "Xander? I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. I messed up real bad. And I can't fix it I've researched and researched you're stuck with Spike. I ..."

Xander, who had been calling Willow's name, finally got her attention. "Willow, I'm not in the mood for a genuine Willow babble. You messed up. You promised that you wouldn't work any mojo on me and then you did. I'm still kinda pissed at you."

Willow sniveled and Tara put an arm around her, even if she did agree with Xander. Willow handed the phone to Giles.

"Xander, I'm sure you're still aggravated with Willow but there's no need to be unkind. Please think before you speak." Giles pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, he hated being a peace maker. Their childish arguments got on his nerves. He really wanted to let Ripper loose on them sometimes.

Xander, for his part, was trying not to go ballistic on Giles. Then he decided 'why not'

"Excuse me? Aggravated? I'm aggravated? Doesn't quite cover it. How 'bout pissed. Or furious? You ... and Willow both left me hanging out to dry. Do you have any idea what it's like to be a thrall in a vampire's court? No, of course not. I'm the only one who does but I'm expected to show sympathy. Get over yourself. And don't send me any translations. Do them yourself." Hisvoice had gotten colder and colder with every word and now he seemed to be dripping icicles. He started to hang up but Giles called his name and he decided to give it a bit.

"I'm sorry if I seem unsympathetic but it's Spike after all. He's chipped, what can he do?"

Xander sputtered for a second then just snarled. "Coming to court, aren't you? You'll see." and hung up.

The sound of hands clapping startled him. Spike was standing in the door clapping his hands. He swaggered over to Xander, the effect not spoiled a bit by the absence of his duster.

"Well, that was a treat, pet. Only, now what?"

Xander smirked at Spike. "Now we put on a little show. Buffy won't dare do anything so I say. Let 'er rip."

Spike gave Xander an evil grin. "Really, pet? You sure?"

Xander nodded. "As long as it doesn't really hurt."

Spike gathered Xander into his arms. "There, there, pet. You know better. Only time I'll ever really hurt you is if you do something stupid. Right?" He ducked his head to look Xander in the eyes. "Right?"

"Right. I know that. I ... damn!" Xander swiped at the tears in his eyes. "I'm going all girly."

Spike just petted and cooed as Xander wept into his shoulder.

He finally got himself under control. "Dammit, I can keep zombies from blowing up the school and fight demons and keep apocrypha from happening but I can't ... I just wish they'd realize ..."

Spike filed the zombie comment for later. "Pet, they'll never get it. They have a picture of Alexander LaVal Harris in their heads and it'll take blasting to get it out. So we blast. Ok?"

Xander sighed took the handkerchief Spike handed him and nodded. "You're better at this than I am so ... up to you. Make 'em squirm."

Spike gave Xander a kiss, a hug and a really evil smirk. He sauntered out to make preparations. This was going to be fun.

Xander entered the room with a large tray and set it on the coffee table.

"Coffee? Or..."

The being didn't let Xander finish.

"Are you trying to poison me? My people are allergic, for lack of a better word, to caffeine." The being turned to Spike. "Master, control your slave."

Spike sneered at the being. "I'm not under your orders. The boy wouldn't have any way to know that Usura demons are allergic to caffeine. I didn't know." Spike turned to Xander and addressed him in kindly tones. "And what else is on that tray?"

Xander leaned over to open two pressure pots. "Apple juice, milk, and I can bring plain water if you'd rather. Coffee, master?"

Spike gave the Usura demon a pointed look and it had the good grace, or sense, to look embarrassed. It accepted a glass of juice and settled back. Xander handed Spike a cup of coffee and raised an eyebrow at him. Spike just nodded.

Xander left and came back a moment later with his own cup of espresso. The Usura demon blinked once and Xander realized that it had nictating membranes. It was a little freaky. He knelt on a cushion next to Spike and took a sip out of his cup.

Spike ignored the demon, turning to Xander instead. "I'm going to have a special harness made for you. I want you to be sure that the measurements are right. Understand?" Xander nodded and took another sip of his coffee. Spike sniffed. "What's up with that? Your coffee smells completely different from mine. Why?"

Xander settled back in seiza, getting comfortable. "I used a slow pull for my cup and a fast one for yours. It affects the flavor."

"Slow pull, fast pull? All right, pet, I give. Wot the bloody 'ell are ya talkin' about?"

Xander grinned at Spike's slip. "The machine you got me, and I can never thank you enough for it, is manual. The slower you pull down on the handle the stronger the coffee. And I used a real slow pull on mine. You want another cup? And do you want me to make it special or will the pot do?"

Spike handed Xander his cup and shook his head. "No more. I don't need the extra caffeine and neither do you."

Xander grunted then put his cup down half finished. "As you wish, but I only get two cups a day anymore. Could I please finish?" Xander gave Spike a slightly pleading look. Spike told him to go ahead, so Xander picked the cup back up and sipped again.

Spike turned his attention to the Usura demon. "I want harness for my boy. Carefully padded. He gets one blister, even so much as a chafe mark and you're dog food. Understand?"

The demon nodded, paling as he realized that Xander was prized by this notorious member of the Scourge of Europe. "As you wish. I need to touch him if my measurements are to be accurate."

At Spike's nod Xander clambered to his feet, setting his empty cup aside. He turned and twisted, squatted and bent. The demon measured things that made Xander blush, but never lingered longer than was absolutely necessary. He almost did once and Spike's feral snarl let him know in no uncertain terms that he'd better move on quickly. When he was finished, he sat back in his place, spoke to his assistant who produced a sample book and settled back to allow Spike to examine the samples.

Spike blinked at the scarcity of the samples. There were only three colors black, white and red in an endless seeming number of weights. He made a face.

"Not what I was thinkin' of. Got anything else?"

Xander fingered one of the samples and grimaced. He didn't like any of them either. The demon snarled then stilled himself as Spike reared up like a cobra about to strike.

"I have a few more samples but no one ever asks for them." He flapped a hand at his assistant, who produced four more samples on a bead chain. Spike held one up against Xander's cheek. He snarled and tossed it aside. "Not what I want."

Xander scratched the back of his neck. "So ... do you know what you want?"

Spike jumped up and started pacing. "Black, black, and bloody more black.I wear black, you don't. Period. It's too ... stark. Too cold. You're all ... warm and ... I don't know. I just don't like it." Spike turned on the demon who trembled and cringed. "Figure it out. Not black. Red don't suit him and bloody hell not white."

The assistant rummaged in his huge bag and produced a ring of pieces of latigo leather strapping. He held it out to Spike with a trembling hand. "Perhaps Master might find one of these pleasing."

Spike took the scraps and flipped through them impatiently. He fingered several bits but didn't find what he wanted.

"This is nice but it's a bit stretchy. Got anything else?"

The assistant took the ring and flipped to one piece. "This is the best. It's alum tanned latigo. Very strong but we can work it until it's soft. And ... the padding could be this very nice dark yellow chamois. I think the brown is perfect for your man."

Spike fingered the piece then held it against Xander's cheek. Xander gazed at him with trusting brown eyes.

Spike nodded. "Yeah, that'll do. Remember ... so much as a chafe mark an' I'll have your guts for garters."

The two demons whimpered a bit then scrambled their things together and got out. Xander couldn't help a soft, 'eeewww.'

Xander eyed Spike. "I'm not sure I like that. While I was out, you didn't pick some totally kinky something or other, did you?"

Spike shook his head. "No ..." He started then snarled, "Bloody hell. I forgot the chains. I'll call that prick back."

Xander gazed over Spike's shoulder. "Don't have to. There he is. Make nice."

Spike just snapped at the demon. "Here. Chains. Gold plated, got me?"

"Yes, master. I was just about to suggest something in a nice heat treated diamond cut steel."

Spike thought for a moment. "Diamond cut?" The demon nodded hesitantly. "Make 'im glitter, yeah? Sounds a treat. Do it." The demon scuttled back out before Spike could change his mind, or eat or disembowel him. Spike snickered.

Xander just snickered too. Spike realized that his boy did have a very dark spot. Considering his parents it was a wonder he wasn't a psycho.

"Evil git."

Xander frankly laughed. "Look who's talking."

"Takes one to know one, yeah?" Spike grinned at Xander.

Xander dragged Spike to the old filling station and showed him around. Spike dodged the sunbeams pouring through the skylight with a hiss.

"Don't worry about that. I'm going to put in an awning sort of curtain thing. Open for sun, close when you're around. Ok? Can I have it? Please? Can I?"

Spike examined the place carefully while Xander nearly danced with impatience. When he was done Spike shrugged. "Don't see why not, pet. Hoists need some work. Don't use 'em until they're checked out by an expert. Got me?" Spike pinned Xander with a stern glare.

"Right. Don't use a hoist until it's checked out. Seems good to me. Don't fancy squished Xander. Like all my bits where they are."

Spike snickered. "Careful there, pet. You're starting to sound like me."

"And that's bad because?" Xander gave Spike his best wide-eyed innocent look.

"Because I sound like me an' you sound like you. You only need one bay for your truck, wot ya gonna do with the other?"

Xander stretched carefully while Spike admired the play of muscle in Xander's t-shirt clad back.

"I'm going to put my wood working stuff there. The bench along the wall will hold all my small stuff and the main bay will hold my table saw, router, chop saw and workbench. It even has enough plug ins for everything. The room I'm using now is cramped, dark and has just one plug plate. The only reason I'm using it is it's insulated. I can use it anytime I want without waking anyone up."

Spike just shrugged. "Use it any time you want wherever you want. Anyone complains they can talk to me ... if they can talk at all."

Xander blinked, then snorted. "What are you going to do, rip out their tongue?"

"Yeah."

Xander did a double take, realized that Spike meant it and grinned. "Evil undead vampire."

"That's me, pet."

Xander snickered and just led Spike to admire the rest of the station.

When they were finished Spike told Xander that he had some ideas for the station as well and that he'd have plans drawn up for his, Xander's, approval. Xander couldn't help giving a little skip as they headed back down the long hall. "Thanks, sounds great. Now. Question. Why were you so rude to that Urusa demon."

Spike tapped a cigarette out of the pack and lit it. Drawing in a deep breath he exhaled slowly. Xander possessed himself in patience, realizing that Spike was using that small ceremony to gain time to think.

"Usura ... Well, see, pet. It's like this. You know anything about Japan." Xander gave Spike a 'well, duh.' look. "Sorry. Marital arts. Well, demon relations are all about 'face'. Who has it. Who's lost it. Lessening theirs and increasing yours. See?" Xander nodded. "He's beneath me, but he had the nerve to accuse you of intentionally trying to harm him. So, I sort of rubbed his nose in the fact that you love coffee a lot. And that you thought you were doing something nice for him. Pillock. He could have just said, 'can't drink coffee, makes my people ill' or summat. So. I put him in his place and lessened his face. Got it?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I do. And that's why you sometimes have to punish me in public, right?"

"Yeah. Don't like it. But, and this is a warning, if I lose my temper, there's no telling what I might do. I'd be sorry later, but my temper gets the best of me something awful at times. Especially when I'm scared. So ... you're warned."

Xander nodded. "Yeah, but I'm really trying to be good." He gave Spike a sideways look. "And ... are we going to ... um ... Buffy. You know?"

Spike knew exactly what Xander was trying to ask. "Her face is going to fall, big time. In more ways than one. And the Watcher is gonna have a cow. As to Red and the Little Wicca. Red's gonna wanna curse my nuts off. The Little Wicca, she's the one I'm worried about. She'll feel really bad an' I'm not sure I like that."

Xander shrugged. "She'll be the only one to really understand. Might be some way to give her a head's up?"

Spike nodded. "Good thinking. I'll see what I can come up with. When you wanna do it?"

Xander thought about that, about how to increase Spikes face. "Next court. Rub their faces in my pathetic situation." Spike snorted his amusement, looking rather dragonish as smoke shot out his nose. "Right in front of your court. Ya think?"

Spike swatted Xander on the back of the head, making him complain, "Hey!"

Spike smelled the bug spray and asked, "What's that ruddy awful smell?"

"Roach spray. You should have seen it ..." He got a deer in the headlights look. "Oh, fuck me."

Spike couldn't help replying. "Soon, pet, soon. But what's wrong."

"You are so gonna punish me, I swear I forgot all about it. You'll have ... well, you better ... only please don't be too mad. Ok? Please?"

Spike took a deep breath. "Pet! I'm gonna be mad in about three seconds if you don't tell me ... WOT THE BLOODY HELL IS GONIN' ON!"

Xander just opened the door. Spike strode in coat tails flapping around his ankles. One look told him all he needed to know. He nearly fell over laughing.

"Damn. The watcher's been wetting his bloomers for weeks and this is what it turns out to be? Oh, priceless."

Xander bit his lip. "You're not mad? Really?"

Spike turned on Xander. "I'm mad all right. An' I'm tellin' ya now. The next time I find out ya been out fightin' incursions without me knowin' I'll take a belt to ya. Hear?"

Xander turned sullen. "You do and that's it. I don't care what you beat me with, except a belt. Don't ever. You hear?"

Spike blinked at the fierce glare Xander was giving him. He decided not to press this issue as Xander felt so strongly about it. "Ok, pet, no belts. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"I don't wear knickers ... um ... Do I?"

As Xander was obviously willing to let the disagreement slide Spike let it alone too.

"Yeah, ya do. I'm the one that don't. Got some kind of container?"

Xander shook his head. "I don't carry around bottles or anything like that. I'll run back to the station and see what I can find. Why do you want it?"

"Gonna show this to the Wanker. He'll go mental. Get something big enough for the glass bits and some of the bugs, ok?"

Xander left and came back with a two-quart mason jar and lid. "Is this ok?"

Spike took it with a nod. He squatted down and scooped the glass into the jar using the lid as a pusher, he scrapped some of the bugs into a pile and did the same thing with them. He screwed on the lid and examined it.

"This isn't over. That didn't just drop from the heavens, or heave up from hell. Someone put it there. So, someone wants to open a door. And they won't quit trying."

Xander nodded solemnly. "No shit. We're going to have to seal some of the lower level doors. One's that go to the outside."

Spike nodded. "I'll take care of it as soon as we get back."

Xander headed for his office and Spike for his. But before they parted Spike insisted on his first kiss.

"Come on, pet. You know it's gonna happen. Be nice, yeah?"

Xander's first reaction wasn't the revulsion that Spike had expected, he just turned bright red. "I don't have any experience kissing men. I ... um ... don't want you laughing at me. So I'm a great big girl, all right?"

Spike pulled Xander into his arms. "Not a girl. And I would never laugh. If you're not a good kisser I'll just have to teach you. Right? Besides, I might like a completely different style than Queen C."

Xander opened his mouth to ask how Spike knew about Queen C, or Cordelia. Then he thought about it and just puckered up. Spike kissed him and he kissed back.

They were both surprised at how much they enjoyed it.

Spike finally broke it up, pushing Xander awayexclaiming, "Here now. If we keep that up I'll have to take a cold shower. An' I hate bein' cold. Gerroff!" The last because Xander was clinging to him, giggling.

"Don wanna. Like kissin' you."

"Idiot."

"Berk!"

Spike laughed at this. "Am not, an' do you even know what that means?"

Xander shook his head. "No, but you always say it."

"Well, don't copy me. Now, again. Office. Yours there, mine here. Go."

Xander pouted but went. He had things he needed to do and he knew that Spike had work as well. Putting it off wouldn't get it done.

Three hours later Spike stuck his head in the door and announced that he wanted his boy. Xander looked up from his paper and rubbed at one blood shot eye.

"Here pet. Wot's this?"

Xander dropped the paper onto the desk. "It's in Latin. I hate Latin. But it's for that ... Lord Blak something. Too many consonants and not enough vowels. You wanted me to do this one particularly. So I'm working on it."

Spike nodded. "I remember. But if ... wot's wrong? Why are your eyes blood shot?"

Xander sighed and rubbed at the other eye, irritating it even more. "The letters crawl around like bugs. I usually refuse Latin. And this is in another one of those damn translations from some other language. Give me some nice Druidic Gaelic or Greek any demon language. Please. Just not this fucked up bastard mishmash and whoever wrote this spells worse than I do."

Spike just walked around the desk, intercepting Xander's hands as they rose to rub again. "Stop that. You're only making it worse. Come with me."

Xander didn't resist when Spike took him back to their quarters. He was tired. The eye strain had worn him out. He obediently lay down on the bed when Spike ordered him to.

Spike went into the bedroom and got a bottle of eye drops. He coaxed Xander into allowing him to put them in his eyes. Then he put a cool wet rag over Xander's eyes and told him to rest.

Xander fell asleep almost immediately.

The next three days went quickly and Xander was finally ready for his surprise.

"Spike. Will you trust me?"

Spike looked up from the book he was reading, took off his glasses and shrugged. "Sure. Actually you're the only human in this bloody town I do trust."

Xander bounced a bit in excitement. "And who else do you trust?"

Spike shrugged. "Timmins. So ... you gonna squeak beef or not?"

Xander figured he'd better get on with things. If Spike reached a certain point, he'd get pig stubborn on him.

"Yeah, ok. Come on. Come with me. I've got an unbirthday present for you."

Spike followed Xander into one of the rooms on the next level down. He eyed the chair with a puzzled look. It was just a plain dining room chair, straight backed and rather uncomfortable.

"It's a chair. Delighted, I'm sure."

Xander shook his head. "That's not the present. This is." He pulled the cover off a contraption that made Spike snicker.

"Well, pet, creatin' Frankenstein's monster all over again?"

Xander shook his head. "Re-creating Bloody Billy. Sit in the chair."

Spike blinked at Xander's use of one of his noms de gueir. "I'll go along, pet. But I'll admit to being fair bum fuzzled."

Spike settled in the chair and Xander moved his apparatus into place. He really hoped this worked. He'd reassured himself that if it didn't, it wouldn't harm Spike.

"Ok, now, I don't know if this will hurt or not. I hope not. But ... um ... I'm going to try to deactivate that chip."

Spike sighed, just like Xander to try the impossible. "Pet. Much as I appreciate the effort you can't remove that chip. Got it stuck right down in the middle of me brain. All hooked up nice an' nasty."

Xander checked settings and fiddled a bit. "Yes, I know. I'm not trying to remove it. It's a computer chip. ROM chip. Not a real good one either." Xander pulled a rollingstool over and sat down on it. "See, the chip is just a computer chip and a few wires that send electric currents into parts of your brain when you do whatever it is programmed to keep you from doing. I'm not sure where it gets the current and it's not pertinent to the discussion on hand. So, anyway, it's sensitive to magnetic and electrical impulses. I don't think it's a good idea to run a few thousand volts or watts through you." Spike's 'me neither' made him grin. "The other option is electromagnetic. And ... um ... the other reason I'm really mad at Willow is. She had schematics and specs on that chip, right down to it's frequency on that computer she gave me. I'm gonna match that frequency and fry it."

Spike felt his mouth fall open. This actually might work.

"Ok pet, let's get to it then."

"Not scared I'll fry your brains?"

Spike shrugged. "Terrified. You tell anyone an' I'll deny it ta my last."

Xander fussed with the equipment for a second. When he flipped the last switch, the machine began to hum. He grunted 'ready', Spiked nodded and Xander pressed a button. The hum got louder, Spike sat for a moment then sighed.

"Well, it was a good try. But nothing."

Xander just motioned to a being standing in the shadows. "Come here." The being walked up to Spike and just stood looking at him.

"Pinch him."

Spike reached out and pinched the being who winced and said "ouch"

"So?"

Xander grinned fit to split his face. "He's human. All human."

Spike glared at the man who just grinned and nodded. "Mom always said I was a pig, but ... human." He nodded once and left.

Spike just stood for a moment then he started to shake. Xander gathered him into strong arms and cuddled him. "So, ok? It's good?" He just petted and murmured as Spike struggled to control the tremors that shook him to his core. He was free. Finally, miraculously free.

"I'm free. I can do what ... I'm goin' out."

Xander opened his arms and nodded. "Figured you would. Don't eat any innocents. Ok?"

Spiked grinned. "Ok, pet, I won't. Just to make you happy. Mind if I eat a mugger or a pimp or two?"

"Eat a bad guy? I'm not sayin' a word. Just don't eat my dad, he'll make you sick. Go. Run. Hunt. Come back safe." Xander made shooing motions.

Spike caught him in a bear hug then ran out the door with a whoop. Xander shook his head and went to tell Timmins that the experiment had been a success.


	17. Chapter 17

Ulterior Motives 17

Betaed by Skippyscatt

Xander woke up at the gentle nudge.

"Wake up, pet. Glorious night. Got ta hunt. Found me a rapist." Spike bounced on his toes, grinning fit to split his face. "An' I learned some at' else. I can do that 'little drink' thing. The Old Master was always sayin' that it was impossible, but the bastard lied. I got a nibble offa a pimp and another offa some git that passed out in an alley."

Xander frowned for a second, then lit up. "You didn't kill? I mean you could but didn't? That's great. If you learn to do that thing that Dru does. That confuse/ snooze ... whatever. Then you don't have to hide bodies. And I don't have to feel bad about not trying to stop you from killing ... and ... never mind."

"'zactly. I have my stables an' I'm keepin' them. I don't have time to go runnin' all over hells mouth tryin' ta keep body and ... well, whatever, together. An' it really ain't dignified. Consider me cured."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Really? And why, exactly? Enquiring minds want to know."

"The smell is awful. I don't remember them smelling quite so bad. Even in Vickie's day."

"Oh, well, maybe you were just more used to it? Or maybe it's the drugs." Xander nodded wisely. "Well, come on. I'll run you a tub so you can have a nice soak. And I'll tell Timmins to bring you some tea. Ok?"

Spike sighed, stretched and nodded. "Yeah, sounds good."

It didn't take long for Spike to shed his dirty clothing. He dumped it in the closet in the hamper and got to the bathroom just in time to get a wonderful look at Xander bending over to test the water.

"If you don't straighten up right now, I'm not gonna be responsible for my actions."

Xander just looked over his shoulder, without straightening up. "Oh? We'll get around to that sooner or later. Why not now?"

"Because I'm tired, wound up and not in the mood to be careful. So we don't. I won't hurt you. I don't want you scared of me. That's not in the plans. Now, finish an' straighten up before I smack that pert ass of yours."

Xander straightened. "Pert? Me?"

"Got an ass like an apple. All round an' sweet and so damn biteable. Where's me tay?"

"Not red?"

Spike gave Xander a mock aggravated look. "Will be in a mo', if ya don't get a wiggle on."

Xander walked to the door, stopped in it and wiggled his ass at Spike who yelped 'oi!' in an indignant tone of voice. He laughed. The deep chuckle sending goose bumps up Spike's back, and left, shutting the door to keep the steam in.

He returned soon with a tray laden with a pot, cup, saucer, sugar bowl and spoon. He set it on the tub tray and poured tea. "There, Mr. Cranky Vamp. Drink your tea and I'll tell you all the latest."

"Latest what, pet?"

"Stuff. Buffy called again just after you left. She was all 'I'm so sorry, Xander, but could you tell Spike ..."

"Tell me what?"

"No idea. I told her that if she called to talk to me, great; if she was wanting me to be some messenger boy, you've got a secretary for that. Then I hung up. I'm not going there again. I'm not the donut boy anymore, nor the Zeppo. She wants you to do something, she can ask you herself."

Spike nearly did a spit take with his tea. "Good for you, pet. That'll take the starch out of her knickers."

Xander shrugged. "I'm not going to be ignored or trivialized anymore. I'm sick of it. Now, out of the tub when you feel like it and into bed. I'll give you a massage for once."

Spike smiled into his cup, things were looking up.

Xander gave Spike a massage that made him groan in pleasure. After his massage Spike settled in to sleep with Xander curled up beside him. He decided that now was time to get one or two questions answered.

"You said that Red had the ... what did you call 'ems for that chip? Spill."

Xander snuggled deeper into the covers and sighed. "She gave me her old computer when she got a new one. I managed to keep it hidden from pop by not using it much. So when I had time to really explore, I found a file she'd downloaded with all the schematics and specifications on that chip. I can't believe that she lied when I asked her if she'd found anything. So anyway, I used them to figure out how to deactivate that chip. Ok?"

Spike nodded against Xander's shoulder. "Yeah, I get it. It's still in there, but you gutted it, right?"

"Yup. Killed it dead."

"Thanks, pet. I'll reward you, you'll see."

Xander shrugged irritably. "Didn't do it for a reward. Just don't make me regret it."

"Ok, next question. Zombies blowin' up the high school? What was that about?"

Xander snorted. "You remember Jack O'Toole by any chance?"

Spike thought for a moment. "No. Can't say as I do? Who's he when he's at home?"

"No one much. He was ... is? A bully. Made my life miserable for a while. Then he got himself zombified. Don't remember why or how. Just he and his crew wanted to blow up the school. I sort of talked him out of it."

"By usin' your sparklin' wit and charm, I'm sure." Spikes sarcasm made Xander chuckle.

"No by explaining to him that there are different sorts of dead. The walking around and talking, not breathing kind and the really, real dead, six feet under kind. He smarted off and asked me why I wasn't scared. I told him I'd kinda like the quiet. He disarmed the bomb, Oz ate him and that was that."

Spike felt his stomach fall. "You faced down a zombie with a death wish? I ought to whale the tar outtaya."

Xander sighed. "That's why I didn't tell anyone. No one would believe me. Not even you."

"Oh, I believe you, pet. Smell it when ya lie. Ya bloody pillock, what if he'd blown you up."

Xander shrugged, shaking the bed. "Then I'd be in a quiet place. No one would have cared a bit. You know that."

Spike sighed and ran his fingers through Xander's hair. "You're right and it sucks. Go to sleep."

Xander snugged against Spike and obeyed him.

The next morning Spike got up and slipped into the kitchen, as he did every morning. Although it wasn't really morning, more like 11:30.

He nicked his thumb and let the blood drip into Xander's orange juice. Xander knew what he was doing, but he still didn't want him to see for fear of squicking him out.

Xander ambled in and caught him.

"Hey, morning."

Spike started to lick his thumb healed but Xander caught it carefully. "Easy there, you'll waste it. Let me." Xander took Spike's thumb into his mouth and carefully sucked on it until it quit bleeding. Then he licked it a long slow lick that made Spike swallow convulsively. He took the digit back between his lips and sucked gently as he stroked the small cut with the tip of his tongue. He gave Spike a scintillating look from under his eyelashes. Spike licked his lips, his mouth surprisingly dry.

Xander straightened up from the slight bend he'd been in to reach Spike's hand. Timmins took the opportunity to slip out of the kitchen, leaving the juice on the table.

Xander nudged Spike's nose with his, making him turn his head and tip it slightly. "Perfect"

Xander licked at Spike's lips and when he opened them to gasp in surprise Xander pressed his advantage. Spike let Xander have his way just to see what he'd do. Xander slipped his tongue into Spike's mouth and caresses his tongue. Spike sighed softly. This was nice. Xander ran his tongue across the top of Spike's. The smooth bottom of Xander's tongue slid across the rough top of Spikes in a caress that left Spike feeling weak in the knees. Xander ran his tongue around Spike's top to bottom, bottom to top. The alternating smooth then rough feeling exciting both of them. He sucked gently on Spike's tongue then more aggressively as Spike didn't resist.

Xander tangled his fingers with Spike's and leaned into him a bit, Spike settled against the counter top and relaxed. Xander pressed his advantage and pinned Spike's hands to the counter on either side of him and sucked harder. Spike managed a soft whimper and leaned back more. Xander groaned and thrust his tongue into Spike's mouth. He pressed it against Spike's fang and let Spike taste. He had to press his thighs against Spikesto keep him from crumpling.

"Ok?"

Spike sighed. "Bloody hell, pet. Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

"Just followed Cordelia's advice and did what I like. You ok?"

"No ... I'm dead. Dead dead. Killed by a kiss. Your blood is ... fantastic."

Xander leaned in for another toe curling kiss and waited until Spike got his breath back, figuratively speaking, before letting go of him. He stood back and watched in some amusement as Spike gathered his wits. He picked up his juice and swallowed it down.

"Good stuff. How much longer are you going to do this?"

"Give you blood?" Xander just nodded. "Forever, it makes you smell like me. Keeps the minions and fledges from doing something ... irretrievable. I don't think you'd like the other way."

"No. Having you come all over me, then rub it in? Ick!" Xander set the juice glass on the table again and stretched. His shirt rode up showing his abs. Spike admired the flat plains of his body and smirked.

"Stick your eyes back in your head. The blueprints for the garage are here."

Spike raised an eye brow, making Xander feel a bit hotter than normal. "Are they now?"

"Yeah, came last night. I just put them in your office. The messenger apologized and said that they came all the way from Holland."

"They did. I consulted an expert on renovations there. He sent a list of reliable demons to take care of the hoist, I hope."

"Didn't open them. I decided to wait until you could be with me. Come on. I've been patient long enough."

Spike grinned and started to follow Xander. Timmins stepped into the room and stopped Xander. "We're out of popsicles. Do you want me to get more?"

Xander grinned at Timmins. "Don't think so. I think you and they have done their jobs."

Spike thought about that for all of a second. "Oi! It's not that cold!"

Xander laughed and ran for the office, with Spike in hot pursuit.

After reviewing and approving the plans, they settled to finish their respective work. Spike to order the materials for the renovation and Xander to finish up that 'damn, idiotic bastard Latin farce of a spell' Xander grumbled all the way to his office.

He settled in his chair and pulled open the drawer. The parchment lay there like a lump,waiting for him to tackle it again. He knew he was going to have a headache in about thirty minutes. But Spike had promised the personage that he would translate this, so he would.

He struggled for a while then put it aside to work on some details for his orchidarium, he would return to the translation once his head quit hurting. He rubbed at his eyes and grumbled, "stupid master ... what was his name? Blac something with too many consonants and not enough vowels. Shit!"

Spike looked up as Master Bruce came into his office. "May I have a moment, Master?"

"Sure. What's up? Boy doin' well?"

"That's what I wanted to speak to you about. He's doing very well. I'm impressed. But he's stronger than he should be. I need to know what spell he's using. It might be dangerous and I'm concerned."

"I'm feedin' him my blood. Just a little. Don't worry about it." Spike smiled at Bruce, he was obviously worried about Xander.

"Ah! Master's blood. That explains everything. I was worried. Now that that is cleared up, I need to ask you if you want him to continue on to the next level. It's a hard route but he's capable of making it. If he is dedicated enough. I'd really like to see him continue. His self-confidence is rising and I'm sure he's capable of the Ryu Sui Sen. And several other high level attacks that I haven't wanted to teach a student in more than two hundred years."

Spike blinked for a moment. "Boy's that good?" Master Bruce just nodded. "Well, well. Teach him anything he's able to learn. Just, if you're going to keep him for several days, I want to know about it at least a week in advance. Need to make arrangements so I can watch. I won't interfere but I do enjoy watchin' my boy do well. All sweaty and ... never mind." Spike had the grace to look a bit shamefaced.

"Don't worry. I'm glad to see that you prize him so. He's worth it."

"I'd like to get him something. He's working so hard and doing so well. What should I get him? Got any suggestions?"

Master Bruce folded his arms and thought. "Well, he really needs a decent gladius, the one he's using now is going to break any moment." Spike's head shot up. "Oh, don't worry. I'll make sure that he doesn't get hurt when it does. It'll be good for him. But he needs a reliable one. I could check the markets?"

Spike shook his head. "No, I'll do it. I want to be able to say I picked it out myself. Ok, anything else?"

Master Bruce stood and bowed. "No, master. Thank you for your kind attention." He turned to go but stopped. Returning to stand in front of Spike's desk he said, "I hear you're going to do something special at court tomorrow. I hope it's not to the Young Master's detriment."

Spike started to get pissed then decided that if Bruce had nerve enough to try to protect Xander from him, he was magnanimous enough to ease his mind. "Boy and I are puttin' the screws to his so-called friends. He's gettin' his evens. He knows what's up. Ok?"

"Yes, master. I'm sorry, master."

"Don't be. Glad to see you want to take care of Xander. Now git." Master Bruce got.

Xander nibbled at his lip and sighed. This translation was turning out to be a farce. It was nothing but a really elaborate hair growing spell. Combined with a stinky herbsalve recipe it was guaranteed to grow hair. In other words, it was nothing but snake oil. He sighed again, finished up the translation and stuck a sticky note to the file telling Sylvia to type it up and send it.

He decided that he'd had enough and was going to bite the bullet and find out what Spike had in store for him. He'd delighted in putting off all Xander's questions about his new harness. This was enough. Xander was going to find out now, or else. Or else what, he wasn't sure.

"Spike? You busy?"

Spike took off his glasses and smiled at Xander. "No. All done. And I can tell you're flonchin' at the bit to find out about your harness."

"Yeah. Kinda nervous about this. Will it hurt?"

"Better not. If it does I'll have that urusha demons guts for garters."

"Ick. Spike, what woman would wear garters made out of guts. And don't answer that. I really don't want to know."

Spike just laughed. "It's only an expression. Guts aren't elastic enough to make garters. Now, come on. I'll show you the harness, we'll have a dry run so that everything's right for your performance. Ok?"

Xander bounced on the balls of his feet. "Yeah, great. I just hope it works the way I want it to."

"Me to, pet. But here we are." He opened the door and yelled for Timmins. The vampire stuck his head out of the walk in closet. "Bring out the new harness. Oh, and that old stuff. The first stuff we used."

Xander eyed the new harness with a slightly bemused expression. "Um ... those chains are a bit much, don't you think?"

Spike just smirked. "Bring the old harness here Timmins and help me get it on him."

"I thought we weren't going to use it anymore." Timmins worked at untangling the discarded harness.

"Not, just wanna prove somethin'"

Xander stood patiently while they fastened the harness over his clothing. He refrained from comment for now. If Spike had something to prove, he wanted to see it.

"Ok, pet. Just walk across the floor."

Xander started to walk, shuffling awkwardly. Spike snapped, "Age tsuki!"

Xander fell into the required stance for the rising punch and felt the chains snap to their limits, and then some.

"What the hell? Spike?"

Spike reached over and unbuckled the cuffs from Xander's wrists while Timmins knelt to remove the one's around Xander's ankles. Spike examined the chain then turned to Timmins. "See? It's workin' just like I said."

Timmins smiled. "Indeed. My apologies." Timmins bowed to Spike who snorted and said rather fondly. "Stupid git."

Xander had waited as patiently as he could but now he demanded. "What the hell was that all about? And why are you two smiling like a couple of idiots."

Spike just handed Xander the chain that had led from one ankle to the other. It was stretched, the links warped out of shape and nearly parted in several places.

"Um. Oh. Um. I did that? Ok?"

Xander's obvious confusion endeared him to Spike even more. Timmins just whispered for Spike's ears alone. 'I told you'.

Spike laughed. "Yeah, pet. You did that. Master's blood is a powerful thing. Although I will have to say that yours is really good. What little of it I got. Now. . . we're goin' ta try that new set on. So strip."

Xander couldn't help but grin. "You just want to get me naked."

"Always, pet."

Xander sighed. This was not going to be fun. Even thoughit was. He wasn't looking forward to seeing his so-called friends again. He was happy with Spike, happier than he'd expected by a long shot. Spike treated him with respect and expected him to do well at what he tried. If he had problems, he knew that he could go to Spike for help without being laughed at. It felt good. Why the Scoobies couldn't have done the same escaped him completely. So now he was almighty pissed, in the American way, and intended to get his back.

He wanted to be calm for the court appearance so he settled to meditate for a while. He meditated longer than he'd thought he would and so was late getting back to his rooms to get harnessed up.

Timmins was waiting for him with a small smile on his face. "You're a bit late. We better hurry. But, did you enjoy it?"

Xander didn't play ignorant, this was the first time he and Timmins had been alone since the kiss. "Yeah, I did. I never thought I'd like kissing a guy. Very freak making."

Timmins snorted. "Why? I never did see the problem. Vampires will mostly screw anything willing and things not so willing. Some humans seem the same without the excuse of not having a soul. I believe the best explanation is you're bi."

"I'm bi? Ok, enlighten me. Oh, educated one."

Timmins smacked Xander in the back of the head. Very gently, to be sure, but it was definitely a smack. "Stop that. I have the time to do the research, you don't. Now listen. You're just big hearted. You see the person, before you see the gender. You fall in love with the person you see. I've heard about Cordelia Chase from some of the others. You saw something there that no one else did. So you fell in love with her."

Xander snorted. "More like lust but go on."

"Love, lust. At your age there's not much difference. So, if you like someone, you like them. Having sex, making love, doin' the horizontal mambo. However you want to describe it. Has very little to do with matching or meshing parts and more to do with mutual respect and affection. Do you understand?"

Xander grinned at Timmins. "I do. And thanks for that bit of moral support and ego stroking. I really need it. I'm so nervous I could puke."

Timmins cleared his throat. "Would you like something? The healer left some medicine for you when you were sick before. It's very mild, just enough to allow you to relax."

"I don't think so. Spike will have a fit and I really need all my wits. If I show up half scrambled, he'll clobber both of us. I'll manage."

"Very well. But I'll tuck one in my pocket, shall I? That way if you need it, I'll have it. Now. This goes here. And ..."

Xander stood still while Timmins buckled, snapped and fussed. Xander settled himself and squatted slightly so that Timmins could put on his cloak and pull up the hood. Spike had made all the plans and insisted on this, declaring it, 'Quite the thing. Dramatic, but not over board.'

Spike settled on his throne and grumbled under his breath, "Soddin' minions and their bloody ritual fixation." He crossed his legs at the ankles and motioned for the guards to open the doors.

The doors swung back with a resounding boom and the court traipsed in, in a ragged stream. Vampires, demons, humans and Scoobies all trying not to get in each others way. Spike smirked slightly, the Scoobies all clustered in a tiny group. Like baby quail before wolves. Although these quail had stakes and swords and the two witches were obviously ready to cast at least one spell.

Spike stood up. "Silence. Thank you. First business."

He settled back to listen to minor complaints from minions and fledges. He didn't bring Xander in until he started with major complaints and greeting visiting 'royalty'. He didn't see any reason for Xander to have to kneel for hours on end. Nor did he see any reason to subject him to the lascivious leers and heated glares of people beneath him.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Buffy started to say something but Giles silenced her. Tara and Willow just stood and watched everything with interested eyes.

Spike took care of the minor business easily. He knew that Giles was getting an ear full. Buffy couldn't have understood half what was going on if she tried but Red and Glenda were both smiling by the time he got through.

He dismissed the last of the minor cases and called to Timmins. "Where's my pet? Bring him."

Timmins led Xander forward by his leash. The entire court quieted, they always did. This was one of the high points of the session. Xander was now a real beauty, tall, straight, broad shouldered and muscular.

He moved forward confidently. He wasn't worried about appearing in court anymore. Especially since Timmins of all people had ripped the arm off an impertinent demon and literally beaten him over the head with it.

Xander walked to the base of the small platform that Spike's throne was on. He stepped up onto the dais easily, Spike had made sure that while the chains were dramatic, he could still move fairly easily.

He turned and faced the court, chain rattling. He waited a moment to gain his bearings then gazed out from under his hood. He checked out the regulars first. They were all nearly salivating in anxiety, waiting to see the new harness. The few visitors were mostly looking curious, having heard about the new tradition of allowing Master William's pet/thrall into court. But Buffy looked like she wanted to either scream or cry and Willow and Tara were both just crying. Giles, however was another matter, he really looked like he wanted to kill someone, or something.

Xander gave a tiny nod and Timmins pulled the cape off his shoulders.

The concerted gasp that rose from the entire court was everything Spike and Xander could have wanted.

Xander stood proudly and gazed out over the court with a bland expression on his face. The collar around his neck was heavy brown latigo leather, padded with creamy chamois which covered the foam core. His arms were bound around the biceps with straps that were equally heavy and padded. The straps were connected with a glittering chain across his back. His wrists were enclosed in a set of cuffs that matched the collar and straps. The chain that connected them at his belly was only eight inches long and each cuff was also fastened to the belt around his waist with more glittering diamond cut chains. A chain depended from the collar to the belt and supported nipple clamps with small tassels of chains on them. He was decently covered as Spike announced that his 'bits' weren't on display to a bunch of commoners. The shorts were tight enough that Xander's tight buttocks were clearly outlined. A chain dropped from the belt to just above his knees where his legs were circled by more straps with glittering chains between them. The chain fell on down to his ankles also bound with straps connected by more glittering chains. He was also draped with chains whoseonly use was to emphasize his muscles. The straps were all embossed with rows of crossed rail road spikes.

Xander lifted his chin and turned to face Spike, he bowed and then knelt at his feet in the up kneel position. He carefully kept his eyes down and the smirk off his lips.

Buffy stared at Xander and nearly had a melt down. He didn't look like he was hurting or upset. In fact he looked a bit self satisfied. Not what she'd expected at all. She'd expected him to be dragged in kicking and screaming or to be huddled in a terrified and abused heap at Spike's feet.

Willow nearly fainted, Tara had to hold her up. This was not her Xander. This self contained confident man wasn't what she'd expected at all. Tara just nodded to herself. Xander looked good to her eyes, sleek and strong.

Giles took one look at the harness and nearly had a fit right there. The bondage didn't bother him as much as the thought of what Spike might have done to make Xander so accepting. Except that he didn't look particularly abused, all in all they were a very confused group.

Xander settled back against Spike's leg when he pulled gently on his collar. He had to kneel in kizu because of the bands around his ankles. Carefully keeping his eyes lowered, he leaned against Spike and waited.

"Well, people, we have some visitors today that I'm sure all of you would like to greet. Please welcome. Buffy Summers, the slayer. Rupert Giles, the Watcher. And Willow Rosenberg and her friend Tara Maclay. They're witches."

There was some muttering but most of the demons and vampires gave a pattering of applause. Giles glared around then pinned Spike with a murderous look.

"What did you do to him?"

Xander bit his tongue to keep from snarling, now he got all protective.

Spike just shook his head. "Not your turn yet. Got some other business ta take care of."

Buffy snarled but Giles grabbed her arm and shook his head. He pulled off his glasses and polished them so hard he punched out a lensIt fell to the floor with a sharp 'tink'.

Timmins picked it up and held out his hand. "If you'll allow me, sir? I can fix it." He examined the lenscarefully. "The lensisn't chipped or scratched."

Giles glanced at Timmins without paying much real attention, all his attention was pinned on Xander and Spike. Timmins popped the lensback in the frame and tightened the tiny screw that held it in using a screwdriver he produced from somewhere.

He handed them back to Giles and when Giles did a double take smiled at him kindly. "You'll find that you're definitely in Young Master Xander's black books. And will be for quite some time. Get used to it." He bowed just enough to be what he considered barely polite and went back to his position in the shadows behind the dais. Spike just raised an eye brow at Giles and continued his business.

He greeted the new head of some demon clan, Xander stopped listening when he realized that he didn't understand the language. Instead he covertly studied his erstwhile friends. Buffy looked pissed and bored, like she'd rather be in math class than here. She bounced on her toes, shifted restlessly, glared around and generally was impolite. He decided that she was a self centered, irritation, slayer or not; or maybe that was exactly what was wrong with her. She thought too much about slaying, to the point of obsession, and not enough about the people who surrounded her. He decided that he just wasn't capable of judging her fairly. Dropping that line of thought, he went on to study Willow and Tara.

Willow was clutching Tara's hand and looking like all she wanted to do was run. Tara was surprisingly calm. She looked around her with interest and a polite nod when she met a being's eyes. Xander was impressed with her and annoyed with Willow, she was muttering under her breath in a way that could only mean she was cooking up some sort of spell.

"Oi, Red. You do a spell and I'll have yur head. Not nice, that. Got a shaman of my own to do that when I need it."

Willow eeped and clutched at Tara. Tara patted her hands and hissed, 'Told you he'd know. Stop it.' She raised her head to look Spike in the eyes. "I'm sorry. She's just very upset. She does foolish things then."

Spike smiled at Tara. "That's all right, Glenda. Red's gonna learn not to do mojo on the unwilling one way or another. Just you see that you're not in the way when the shit hits the fan. Ok?"

Tara sighed and nodded.

Giles refrained from all comment and pinned his attention on Xander, to the exclusion of almost everything else.

Spike turned his attention to the next matter of business and had to suppress a snarl.

"Master, we have a real problem. There is one fledge, of another order but in your court, that is making ... things ... difficult. He won't hide the bodies, drink from the public supply, or obey any orders. He says that he's the fledge of Angelus and doesn't have to. Will you intervene?"

Spike blinked once. "A fledge of Angelus? I doubt that. Bring him forth."

Xander snorted. Spike squeezed his shoulder. "Quiet. Sounds good. I'll deal with him quickly an' we'll get on with the fun."

" 'K." Xander eyed the Scoobies as they shifted restlessly. Giles had a particularly sour expression.

The vampire that was hauled in and dumped unceremoniously at Spike's feet was big and hard. He'd been a boxer while he was alive and it showed. But he was no match for a strong master vampire. Spike jerked him to his feet and shook him like a rat.

"What have I told you all about messin' in the nest?"

Since the vampire couldn't draw enough breath to talk, the question was more rhetorical than not.

Xander watched with interest, this had happened before and Spike was considered a lenient master as he usually just dusted the offender then gave a lecture about not leaving bodies and body parts within six blocks of their dwelling place. He called it 'messin' in the nest'.

Spike shook the vampire again. "I'm waitin'."

"Might let up a bit. He needs air to talk, you know."

Spike took Xander's advice and loosened his hold a bit. "Well?"

The vampire choked and coughed. "I was made by Angelus himself. I don't have to put up with this. You watch out unless you want to get dusted by him."

Spike dropped the fool and gave him a kick for good measure. "Last childe that was sired by Angelus himself was Penn, git. I should know. So don't be givin' me that. Who sired ya?"

The vampire snarled. "I am Drake, childe of Moxa, childe of Angelus. That makes Angelus my sire."

Willow couldn't contain herself any longer. "Does not! And Moxa isn't a childe of Angelus. Moxa is a childe of Antitum. Big faker."

Giles started to say something but Spike held up his hand. " 'S ok, Watcher. Thank you, Red. Now stuff yourself." He turned back to Drake. "So, you see, even a human knows who's who. Got anything else to say?"

"Yeah. If you're so much, who's your sire?"

Spike sighed. "Don't you idiots listen to anything? Well, never mind that. Timmins, give my line. I'm sick of repeating it."

"Yes, master." Timmins stepped forward, cleared his throat and announced. "Master's linage . . . excuse me, master, how far back do you want to go?"

Spike considered. "Start with Heinrich. He was how old?"

Timmins shrugged, "He was a direct childe of Kato, who was a childe of Aurelius himself. So from master to childe. From Aurelius to Kato to The Master known also as Heinrich to Darla to Angelus to Drusilla to William. Our master, also know as William the Bloody, Bloody Bill and Spike." Spike licked his lips and grinned.

"Now you know. I'm a direct decedent of one of the oldest lines around. You're the decedent of a wannabe. Defy me, will ya?"

Spike grabbed Drake by the neck again and shook him hard, his teeth could be heard clicking all over the room. After giving Drake a good shake Spike dropped him on the floor, where he just sprawled glowering.

Giles knew what was coming, but not exactly how it was going to be accomplished. Buffy knew too and was hoping to be the one called. Willow just nudged Tara behind her and eased them both behind Buffy and Giles. No matter who did the deed, it wasn't going to be pretty.

Xander had stood in his place on the dais all this time, patiently waiting for this to be over so he could continue to aggravate his so-called friends. He was especially mad at Giles, as he was supposed to be older and wiser and Xander felt that the watcher had let him down the most. Willow he could understand, she was not only young but too smart for her own good. Spike had explained that smart didn't mean she had any common sense, only brains. Buffy was just self-centered enough that she would never really understand and besides, she was a slayer not a magic user. Her apology had kind of rubbed his nose in that fact. He had to wonder if she'd have done something if she knew how.

He glanced over the court and missed what Spike was saying, a sharp jerk in his dangling leash brought his attention back to the business at hand.

"Oi! Day dreamin' again? Pay attention or I'll blister ya."

Giles flinched, the three girls all gasped.

Xander bowed his head, flicking a look at Spike from under his lashes. Spike looked bored and just a touch annoyed, but he winked at Xander as soon as his back was turned to the court.

"I'm sorry, master. I was just wondering if he's worth your trouble. Maybe you should let Timmins stake him instead."

"He's not even worth Timmins getting dust on his kit. You're gonna do it."

Xander just blinked at him. "Oh."

The uproar from the Scoobie section was immediate and annoying, to both Spike and Xander. Spike turned his head and snarled, "Shut it. I'll do what I please with what's mine. You don't like it? You should have seen to him yourselves long ago." Spike stepped off the dais and got in Giles's face. "Especially you, watcher. Boy needed trainin'. Did you do anything?" Spike shook his head in mock sadness. "Not that I could tell."

He returned to Xander, turned and faced the court. "Send for Master Bruce."

The Sensei stepped out of the shadows to the side of the dais where he had been standing with Timmins. "I'm here, master. What do you desire?"

"He up to it?"

Master Bruce nodded immediately. "Yes. More than."

So Spike snapped his fingers at Timmins who came to him at once. "Turn him loose."

Timmins unsnapped the quick snaps that held Xander's arms in place then knelt to do the same for his ankles. Xander just stood and waited. Timmins unfastened the ankle cuffs from the drop chain and fastened the drop chain to Xander's belt. He took the cuffs away with him.

When his limbs were free of their bonds, Xander turned to Spike. "May I have a bokken?"

"Can have anything ya want, pet. Just don't get dust in your eyes."

"Ok. Um ... maybe you should do something with him for now? Looks like he's trying to ... um ... sneak out? Maybe."

Spike turned to watch Drake as he tried to ease into the mob of courtiers. It wasn't working very well as they kept easing away from him. Spike snarled, "Should a' kept a hand on 'im. Sorry sack a' shit that he is. Well, get ready, pet."

Giles had started when he saw Master Bruce and now he was practically foaming at the mouth. Spike not only let Bruce Chen near Xander. He actually let him train him. Buffy had to pinch him to keep him from doing exactly what he'd cautioned her against.

The Scoobies watched helplessly as Spike crossed his arms over his chest, nodding to Xander to step forward. Xander accepted the bokken from Master Bruce and set himself.

Spike addressed his court. "Ok, here's the deal. My boy needs the practice. Just keep Duck here from leavin' the arena. No one interferes except me. Keep the watcher and his crew from gettin' in the way."

Xander just stepped down from the dais, loose chains rattling, and took his stance. He'd let Drake make the first move. The vampire was big, although not that much bigger than he was, which meant that he might be slow. Xander wasn't going to take any chances, though, he didn't want his ass blistered.

"Ok, Duck. Ya got one chance ta save you're rotten unlife. Ya get past my pet, ya go free. Ya fuck up an' you're dust."

Xander wasn't going to argue ethics at a time like this, in fact, he didn't care about them much at all. He was going to do what Spike asked because he was well aware that Drake was very close to attracting the kind of attention that none of them wanted. Even Sunnydale cops wouldn't ignore half a dozen corpses dumped in the same neighborhood within a couple of months. They were lucky that the other fledges and minions had been cleaning up after him. Spike was really pissed and that wasn't good for anyone.

Xander set himself and waited for the vampire to do something. All the idiot did was flex and beat his chest, figuratively speaking. Xander sneered at him. "What? Afraid of a thrall? You're not so much. Master Spike was right. Duck. Or is it Duck and Cover. Chicken."

A few minions started clucking at Drake who swelled up like a toad and snarled, "Master Spike is going to be disappointed when I rip you limb from limb."

Xander snorted. "I'm so scared. Do something, anything. Come on."

Drake charged Xander who just stepped out of his way and pivoted to stay facing him. When Drake managed to get stopped and turn to charge again, Xander hopped backward and resumed his stance. "That all you've got? Man, and I was worried." Giles winced at this, taunting a vampire was Buffy's forte, not Xander's. But Xander was still goading Drake, and it was working. Drake was losing his temper.

Another two attacks saw Drake completely out of control. He stumbled and then tried to run into the crowd, but wound up pushed back into the makeshift arena.

Xander met him right in the middle, sword at point guard and took two quick steps forward. Drake tried to dodge but Xander poked him in the chest. The resulting cloud of dust was most satisfying. Xander turned to Spike and bowed.

"Thank you for the practice, master."

"Welcome, did good. Excellent form. See Master Bruce after for a critique."

"As you wish."

Spike motioned to Timmins, who stepped forward, rechained Xander and faded into the woodwork again. Xander stepped back onto the dais and the Scoobies all realized that he hadn't even broken a sweat. Giles especially gave this considerable thought. He wasn't sure he liked his conclusions but didn't see that he could do much about it now.

Xander continued to lean against Spike's leg as he concluded his business and dismissed the court. He turned to Xander and said softly, "Ya wanna really rub their noses in it or are you satisfied."

"I don't think I can be satisfied. They don't seem to really care. They're just standing around. Why are they really here? Just to introduce themselves to the Master of the Hellmouth? Or what?"

"Introduction mostly. And I think the Wanker wants to check up on you. Buffy? She's just a null. Self-centered enough that she really doesn't realize the problem. The two witches are ... not null, but not competent to judge the situation. Giles ... he's supposed to not piss me off. So, up to you."

"Whatever you decide is good by me. I'm still pissed as hell at Giles and Willow. Not at Tara though, she didn't do anything. And Buffy just ... I don't care. She didn't do anything except do nothing. I'm just ... I don't know."

"Try conflicted, pet. I don't blame you for bein' mad. Glenda's a good kid, she would have done something, I think, if she'd realized that Willow an' the watcher weren't. Buffy? How's she supposed ta do somethin'? She's a slayer, not a witch. Think about it while I sort this."

" 'K."

Xander stood and waited as Spike dismissed the court. He sent the minions and fledges out, told the visiting dignitaries that there were refreshments provided and if they still needed to talk to him, he'd be available in a while. Then he turned to the Scoobies. "As for you lot. Follow Master Bruce to the small hall. I'll be there in a bit. Go on, no argy bargy, won't have it."

Master Bruce just took off for the hall without looking to see if anyone was following him. He really didn't care. He was contemplating Xander's fight, analyzing it, looking for mistakes. He wasn't finding any.

Giles reached out to touch Master Chen on the arm and found himself grasped by the wrist. Master Chen was in full vamp face and snarled, "Donot touch me." Giles gasped softly, Buffy heard it and had her stake ready. She tried to stake the master and found herself blocked by a forearm defense. Giles barked, "Buffy! No!" and stepped between her and Bruce.

Master Bruce just gazed at Buffy, holding her arm and that of Giles in unbreakable holdsTara pulled Willow out of the way and held her hands to keep her from making the situation worse by casting a spell. Giles apologized softly, "I'm sorry. I just ... wanted to speak to you about Xander."

Master Bruce let go of Giles, but kept his grip on Buffy. She stared at him for a moment then flinched as Tara poked her in the back. "What?"

"Apologize." Tara's voice was soft but Master Bruce heard her and nodded.

Buffy bit her lip but did as she was told. Master Bruce let go of her too.

"Come with me. High Master William will not be pleased if he has to wait for us."

Giles nodded and motioned to the three girls to precede him. He then bowed slightly to Master Bruce, keeping his eyes on him. The master bowed back, dropping his eyes slightly. Giles gritted his teeth.

Xander followed Spike into the large room behind the dais and started laughing. "Did you see? Did you? That guy ... was he a fledge or minion? Never mind. He was so toast. I dusted him. I did." Xander suddenly gave Spike a funny look. "Is it bad of me to be so happy? He's dead now. Really dead."

"No, pet. It's not bad. He was a danger to all of us and to anyone wandering by. An' remember, Xander, he was already dead. Just an animated corpse. He disobeyed me an' insulted my court. You were just the 'instrument of execution' so to speak. Don't fratch yourself over it. Come kiss me."

Xander smiled, obediently coming to kiss Spike. Spike kissed Xander, exploring his mouth with his tongue. Xander sighed, he liked kissing Spike a lot. "Off! We better go see the gang or they'll be all 'Spike's keeping Xander from us just for spite. And stuff.'

Spike sighed. "Yeah, pet. You're right. So. Off with that kit and into this."

Xander had to grin, 'this' was a pair of well-tailored trousers and a silk button down shirt. He pulled on the silk boxers Spike handed him and stepped into the trousers. As he buttoned the shirt, Spike grinned at him. The shirt was a French cuff and Spike knew very well that Xander couldn't for the life of him fasten French cuffs. The links just defeated him. Spike loved to fasten the links for him. Timmins stood by with Xander's coat in his hand. The coat matched the trousers and shirt. Timmins offered a tie which Xander refused. He hated ties and wouldn't wear one if he could get out of it. Spike grinned at him.

"No tie, Pet?"

"No, no tie. And don't you pet me. At least not like that. And why the brown? I do like this bronzy shirt, how does it turn green? But ..." Xander took a deep breath. "I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"Yeah, pet. Just a bit, though. Nervous?"

Xander slipped his arms into the coat and let Timmins adjust it. "No, not really." Spike smirked at him, Xander usually wouldn't let Timmins fuss with him this much. "Ok, ok. I'm nervous. But not for why you think. I'm still pissed. What if I say something irretrievable? Something nasty that I can't call back, that I really don't mean?"

Spike just shook his head. "Don't say anything at all, unless I ask you a direct question or tell you to answer one. That'll keep you from sticking your foot in your mouth, piss off the lot of 'em and be good practice, yeah?"

Xander sighed and nodded. "Ok. Let's go."

Timmins had to hide a smile. He'd heard the muttering the slayer had been doing and she wasn't happy. The two other girls, whose names he had forgotten hadn't looked happy either. And, he was happy to see, the watcher was positively livid. At least they'd all had better sense than to cause a scene in court.


	18. Chapter 18

Ulterior Motives 18

Betaed by Skippyscatt

Xander smiled at Spike. "You go stir them up. I'll make coffee."

Spike had to laugh. "You an' your bloody coffee, pet. But all right, I'll go take a poke at that lot. Just hurry. I might yield ta temptation an' say som'at I shouldn't."

"What?" Xander's innocent expression belied his tone of voice. "Like ... you should have done better? Or ... why didn't you train him? ... Or ... I donno, any one of half a dozen other things? Coffee?"

Spike watched as Xander stepped into the kitchen and started the espresso machine.

"It won't take long, just long enough for the machine to heat. About ten minutes." Xander touched the machine. "Make that five minutes total. Timmins turned the machine on."

Spike just nodded and headed to the small hall to confront the Scoobies. He was looking forward to it. He added a little extra to his cocky saunter and entered the small hall.

All the Scoobies were standing around a small table. Master Bruce was there too. Giles was attempting to question him about Xander and was meeting no success at all. The Chinese martial artist was giving him a runaround of impressive proportions. All he would say was, "Ask Master Spike."

Tara was standing beside Willow just holding her hand while Willow tried not to look as put out as she felt. Buffy was listening to some internal voice or just staring blankly, with her, who knew?

Spike nodded to Bruce. "Answer his questions. In detail. I'm interested in his reactions."

So Giles asked his questions and got answers that made his mouth dry, his pulse race and his face flush in fury.

"And you allowed this? I thought..."

Spike just sneered and shook his head. "No, Wanker, you didn't think. The boy's been fightin' demons and what not since he was 16. You ever train him? Even a little?"

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I'm a Watcher. He's not my responsibility."

Spike snarled. "He is. The minute you let him start workin' with ya, you made him your responsibility. Shoulda trained 'im."

Giles let Ripper show, stuck his face into Spikes and growled. "And when, exactly, was I supposed to have time to do that?"

Spike vamped in his face. "Shut it. I don't care when. When ya were trainin' the slayer? Ya think? Or when he came in all whipped an' limpin'. Ya think ya might a' comforted 'im a bit?"

Giles jerked his head back like he'd been struck. "What the devil are you saying?"

Xander calmly interrupted them, bringing coffee in on a tray.

"Stuff yourself, both of you." Giles winced at that combination of English and American. "Coffee, black." Xander handed a cup to Tara. "Coffee, light, sweet and weak as a kitten." Xander handed another cup to Willow. "I steamed the milk, low fat, of course. "Mocha chino, extra sweet." Xander handed a cup to Buffy, who smiled slightly. "And tea. Hot, strong and naked." Xander passed a delicate china cup to both Spike and Giles. "And double, double espresso for me."

Spike sighed. "Pet, you know you'll be up all night ... or day. Depends on how ya look at it."

Xander shrugged. "Couldn't sleep anyway." He smirked around at the gathered people. "Hey, Buffy." He held out an arm. "Like the new threads?"

Buffy eyed the coat for a second, then her eyes widened. "Armani? Wow. And silk. Very nice. Who dressed you?"

Xander smiled happily. "Timmins ... and Spike. And it's a silk cashmere blend." Xander posed, taking a stance that showed off the fit of his coat and pants. He pulled up one pants leg. "Calf skin. Made just for me." The black half boots and dark grey socks showed his foot and ankle off perfectly. Buffy eyed the boots for a second then sighed.

"Well, shit. Look, I'm sorry about it all, but ... um ... looks to me like you fell into a good thing. Not the slave thing but the ... way Spike looks at you thing. And you so don't want to piss him off 'cause ... oh, I forgot, the chip. But anyway." She stopped, looking confused. "I lost my train of thought. Never mind." She gave Xander a rather tired look. "I really would have helped, if I'd known how. And realized that no one else was doing what they should have. Sorry."

Xander shook his head. Her apology was vague enough to seem insincere, but it was the best he was ever going to get from her. He decided to be satisfied.

"Thanks, I guess. You never know what you could do if you tried. You know?" Xander shrugged off anything else he might have said and turned to Willow. "But you, you I'm really mad at. Why the hell couldn't you just do what I asked? Not like no mojo was in ancient Etruscan or something. And then ... what? Did you just hope it would all go away? Tell me! 'Cause I really what to know."

Willow bit her lip for a second then nodded miserably. "I thought ... well, the spells usually have an expiration date sort of thingy and go away on their own. I just ... well, I added some ... er... adamant powder ... to make the spell stronger? Only it didn't ... make it stronger, I mean. It made it last longer. And combined with... And he makes you wear that ... thing and everything and I'm so sorry. But ..."

Xander held up a hand before Spike could explode. "Damn, Willow, enough already. You made so many substitutions it was practically a different spell altogether. Then you didn't do anything about it. You just let it ... simmer, for want of a better expression. Anything else to say?"

Tara winced as Willow got defensive. "Well, I meant well. You needed a male friend of the not boyfriend persuasion, I just thought..."

Xander made a rude noise. "No you didn't ... think that is. You just jumped in with both feet and made another mess for someone else to pick up after."

Spike smiled around his cigaret and muttered to Master Bruce. "Well, there goes another plan. Not that I thought for a sec that the boy could keep his mouth shut."

Bruce snorted softly. "Yeah. Exactly."

"He wants the rest of the training."

"Of course he does. Ryu Sui Sen?"

"Yes. And he still needs a gladius."

"I'll see to it soon." Spike tapped Master Bruce on the arm. "Uh-oh. Here we go."

Buffy walked up to Spike and eyed him for a moment. "Well, done is done, ya know? So, shovel talk time. You do anything to hurt him and I'll whack your head with a shovel, multiple times. Got me?"

Spike nodded. "Got you. But ya know this concern, touching though it is, is a bit too late."

Buffy sighed. "I know. But still ..."She shook her head. "I don't know what I was supposed to do. By the time I realized that neither Giles nor Willow was actually working on anything like a cure .. Fix-it. What do you call a thing to fix a bad spell?" She looked at Spike who shrugged. "Never mind. Anyway, it was way too late to do anything. And then ... stuff got out of hand and I forgot about it. I guess Giles did too. There was an incursion prophesy and we were all running around like crazy people trying to figure that out, which we never did by the way. And here we are. Sucks but I don't know what to do about it except to warn you ... I don't care if you're the Master of the Hellmouth or the King of Siam, be good to Xander, or I'll ..."

Spike held up his hand. "Na, na, na! Slayer, take it easy."

Buffy just sighed and punched Spike in the face. He punched her back so hard she stumbled back a step.

"Ow! Spike!" Buffy waited for Spike's chip to kick in. When it didn't, she looked back at Giles but caught sight of Xander standing between them, calmly sipping his coffee. Willow looked terrified, Tara confused and Giles looked like he wasn't sure exactly what had happened.

Giles snarled as everything suddenly hit him. The chip wasn't working! Xander stepped between Giles and Spike. "Don't think so, old man. Step back or I'll give you an exhibition of my training, up close and personal. Buffy, you too." Xander's tone of voice brooked no argument and no one did. They all sat down at the table Xander had pointed at.

He made sure that they all had their drinks and a plate of sandwiches. After that everything went south as the saying goes.

"Ok, one, the first person who makes any smart remarks about court better be ready for a face off. Two, Spike's chip is on the fritz permanently, thanks to me. You don't like it, you should have been better friends when I needed you. Anyone got any intelligent remarks?"

Buffy started to say something but Xander shook his head at her. "Not you. We already agreed that you'd have done something if you could have. Or if your tiny mind had realized that I was really in trouble. Drop it." Buffy wisely kept her mouth shut. She really was very off balance here.

Xander turned his ire on Giles next. "Well, I'm sure you have something to say. Spit it out before you choke on it." He smiled sweetly. "More tea?"

Giles pushed his temper down, hard. He wanted to rage at Xander but knew that it wouldn't get him the results he needed. "No, I thank you." He sighed, took off his glasses and polished them, careful not to knock out the lensagain. "What were you thinking? And how did you do it?"

Xander shrugged. "What was I thinking? That the person who is supposed to protect me can't do his job because he can't hit humans? Yeah, I think that sums it up. How? Easy, Willow gave me her old computer without sweeping it. There were all sorts of interesting things in it. Including the schematics of that chip. I'm not stupid, no matter what anyone says, especially about mechanical stuff. And that chip is nothing but a machine. It's a dead one now."

Giles sighed, "Xander, you have no idea how truly ruthless Spike can be. You've ..."

Xander stood up. "Enough. I've had it. You cripple him, cage him, let him starve then have the unmitigated gall to call me ... what? If you've got something useful to say, say it. But don't ever get smart with me again, unless you intend to back it up with more than a nasty look. Which, by the way, just makes you look constipated. Now, anything?"

Giles proved that he was more of a man than the Watcher Council suspected. "Well, I suppose I deserve that. I really am sorry about all this. I got caught up in trying to find the location of a major incursion, but that's no excuse. What I did, I have no excuse for at all. I can't even plead expediency. It wouldn't have taken me an hour to review and nullify that spell. But I looked at the original, not Willow's notes. I am truly sorry about this, but I'm not sure what to do now."

Spike smelled Giles's regret and sorrow. He decided to be the bigger 'man' and take pity on him.

"And we never even figured out where the incursion was. I'm still worried about that as well."

Xander turned to look at Spike. "Well?" Spike snapped his fingers and Timmins approached with a silver tray covered with a big dome, also silver. He put it in the middle of the table and gave Buffy, Giles and Willow a sharp look each, for Tara, he had a small smile. He removed the dome with a small flourish and stepped back.

Giles took one look at the scraps of glass and bug and exclaimed, "Good lord!"

Buffy eyed the bugs with a disgusted expression while Willow blinked and Tara just looked confused.

"Well, I'm sorry. I don't understand." Tara looked from Spike to Xander to Giles, her puzzled expression making Xander grin at her.

"Don't blame you. That's the incursion, sort of. It's a focus for a trans-dimensional door, portal, whatever. I found it and stepped on it. End of problem."

Buffy nodded once. "Well, that's good. Thanks."

Giles gave Buffy a look full of such loathing that Xander blinked. "Buffy, that was the most luke warm expression of gratitude that I believe I've ever heard. Thank you, Xander. Thank you very much. Could you tell me more about it?"

Xander shook his head. "I sent you a report. You might try remembering what you did with it and reading it. And stop sending me stinky parchments. Really, I'm going to start confiscating them in the name of The Order of Taraka." Xander turned a small smile on Tara. "You ok? You're kind of quiet."

Tara sipped at her drink nervously then cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, Xander. I know it isn't my fault ... any of it. But I can't help but feel that I should have done something ... somehow. Or something."

Xander stood up and walked around the table to give Tara a hug. Spike managed to refrain from snatching them out of each others arms by main force of will. He even managed a small, stiff smile for Tara.

"Oi! Unhand the lady." Xander smirked at Spike. "An' stop smirkin' at me. Doesn't suit." But Spike's fond expression made Xander smile and the Scoobies blink.

Timmins broke the silence with an offer of more tea. Giles accepted, as did Spike. Xander returned to his coffee and battled to keep from screaming. He gave Spike a rather pathetic, pleading look. This caused Spike to announce that there was to be no more 'sad' talk.

"Just gossip for a while. Boy needs to reconnect with you as best he can. It'll take him time to forgive you but if you work it right, he will. Xander ..." Xander looked at Spike, one eyebrow raised. "Play nice. I mean it."

Spike left the room, announcing that he was going to give them some privacy. He left the room but didn't go far, just to the room across the hall. The doors were situated so that no one would see him slip silently through that door. He settled to listen, ready to intervene at a second's notice. It had been hard enough to stand aside and watch Xander struggle with his feelings. This was going to be torture.

In the other room, suddenly the gloves were off. It was tooth and claw, raw feelings and screaming. Timmins took himself out before he did something he'd regret later.

Willow was sobbing and demanding to know how Xander could just let Spike chain him up. Buffy was holding Giles by the jacket while he struggled to go after Spike, threatening to bash his head in. Tara fluttered back and forth for a moment then went to stand by Xander. Xander just stood with his head bowed slightly and listened to them rage.

He let Giles get it all out, all his guilt and sorrow. All his pain. He listened to Willow whine about how all she wanted to do was make things good. He smiled slightly as Buffy simply told Giles to put a sock in it and get over it. Tara shushed Willow but it didn't do much good, she was on a babble rampage of major proportions.

Her last words nearly finished their friendship forever. "And all I want is for things to go back to normal. You getting donuts and coffee, me and Giles doing research and Buffy with the slayage."

Tara grimaced, she didn't mind being left out, she was the newest member of the group. But Xander stiffened, slashed a hand through the air and roared, "Enough! That's it! Shut up." Everyone shut.

"I've had it. That's more than enough. I am not a damn delivery boy. I'm a man. I do construction work, or I did until you lot screwed me over. You don't respect me. You don't listen to me. You don't ... damn! Listen. I did all the translations that you gave credit to Willow for. I fix things, no one says thank you, or even notices. Now ... I'm Spike's. And guess what? ..." He looked around at all of them. Tara patted his shoulder and he shot her a smile. "I like it. Yeah, I had to make some major adjustments. So did he and he didn't even have to. He let me keep my job, and all my checks. Got me a truck. Which no one was interested in by the way. Too busy. Just my first nice vehicle thankyousomuch. And he's seeing that I have training. He gave me a garden. He's looking for a guitar teacher to teach me to play. Anyone? Or am I just listening to myself yack. Hello?"

Xander gave up in disgust. Buffy was standing with her mouth open. Giles was pale and looked like he either wanted to throw up or punch something. Willow was sniveling at Tara who was trying to comfort her without saying she had been right, which was what she wanted. Xander knew that Willow was on the edge of something bad, he just wasn't sure what.

Giles took a moment to get himself together then told Buffy to, "Gear orff me!" Buffy blinked at the slang but let go. Giles straightened his jacket and his shoulders. "Xander, I'm sorry. I've said that several times but it seems that apologies are necessary for more than one thing. I've neglected you shamefully, in more ways than one. I should have paid better attention to you. Trained you. Protected you. I have failed you more times than I probably know. And I don't know how to make it up to you. I don't blame you if you never want to see me again. I hope that's not the case. Please tell me there's some hope."

Xander looked Giles in the eyes and saw that he was sorry, not just saying it.

"Well, there's some. I just really want the answers to a couple of questions. Like. Why the hell did you send me out for donuts all the time. Why not send Buffy? And where do you think I got money for all that?"

Buffy squinched up her nose. "Why shouldn't you get the donuts? I mean, well, don't get mad, ok? It's just that you're not a fighter and I figured it was good for you to get out of research when you started scrunching up your eyes that way."

"Well, let me see. That nest of Povraka demons on the corner of Fourth and June, that bunch of pimps on Sixth and Carter, that wandering Okolv demon that liked the park ... need I go on?"

Buffy clapped a hand over her mouth. "Well, damn. But you made it every single time."

"Yeah, because I run really fast, and I learned to fight pretty well for a donut boy."

Giles sighed then answered the second question. "We took up collections. Er ... there were collections, weren't there?" He polished his glasses to hide his upset.

"No, no collections, or at least not often. Mostly I collected bottles and stuff, stopped by the recycle center then got the goods. Not that anyone ever thanked me, all I ever got was shit for taking so long. Thanks a bunch."

"Xander, I'm sure I gave you twenty dollars several times."

Xander made a noise that sounded like 'Ppfftt!' "Twenty dollars won't cover three or four dozen donuts, especially as none of you ever wanted donuts precisely, mostly you wanted buck and a half a pop crullers and jelly filled and stuff like that. So no, do the math yourself, twenty bucks didn't cover it. And fifty bucks is a lot of bottles and cans."

Giles looked horrified. He was well aware where Xander had gone to get that much recycle so quickly. "Xander, I'm ... damn it, sorry just isn't stretching to cover this. I'm appalled at my own stupidity. Really. I don't blame you if you never speak to me again."

Xander gave Giles a tired look. "Oh, I'm sure I'll get over it eventually but right now? Not so much. Just stop sending me stuff that's on my no-no list. Ok?"

Giles nodded. "Very well. I will. Unless ... if it's an apocalypse I'd like to send it over just on the off chance?"

Xander offered an olive branch of sorts. "Ok, apocalypse is an exception. Only, be sure. No cheating."

Giles raised an eyebrow at that but didn't say anything. He was realizing now how much he'd really neglected his obligations to Xander. Xander refrained from making him aware of most of the things he'd missed.

Willow was standing with her hands on her hips, Tara tugging on one, trying to get her to be quiet. "Well, I don't know what got into your brain, mister. But you just stop being rude to everyone. Giles has a lot on his mind, what with all the translations he has to do now. Since you, Mr. Selfish Pants, won't help anymore. And I'm having to learn all that symbolic junk, which, I might add, is really hard, and I don't see how you can do that and have trouble reading regular English. So just suck it up, bucko, and be nice."

Xander eyed Willow, well aware of what she was doing. She always got defensive when she knew she was wrong. Well, she was wrong and he didn't have to put up with this. "Willow, you're my bestest bud, but you're wrong here. You worked mojo on me when I told you not **//to// **. You messed the spell up then didn't tell Giles at all, did you? And then, when he needed your notes, he got ... what... just the bare spell? Then, I know Spike gave him a copy of your real notes. So why didn't he read them? You do a forget spell on him? Or..." Xander turned to Giles. "Did you just forget all on your own."

Willow got indignant and sputtered. "Did not! I wouldn't, not ... well, I would, but I didn't. I swear. Xander you're being a poopy head about this. It's not that bad, you can just ... well, actually you can't but we could. ... only not easily and we'd have to kill Spike which isn't such a good idea as he's the Master of the Hellmouth. And the Order of Taraka isn't real happy with people who go around offing their High Masters either. So ... um ... Tara?"

Tara patted Willow's shoulder and said, "Willow, you're in the wrong, just admit it. If you apologize enough, he'll forgive you, I'm sure. Just ... it's going to take time."

"Nnooooo! I don't want it to take time. I want my Xander back. This is wrong and bad and not good. And..." She looked Xander over in dismay. "When did you get so big? He's way big. And pretty. And dressed so nice. And sexy. He's sexy. Only, gay here, but ... my Xander isn't sexy. My Xander..."

Xander just gave Giles and Buffy a tired look. "Why don't you take her home? I don't want to do this anymore. Tara, call if you like. Giles?" Giles gave Xander a nod, almost a bow. "You could come watch me train, just check with Master Bruce first. Buffy?" Buffy just shrugged. "Yeah, wouldn't look good if you hung around here too much, but maybe we could meet on neutral ground, like a coffee shop, once in a while." Buffy nodded with a rather sad smile. "Ok. Bye." Xander turned around and left the room. Buffy exchanged looks with Giles and Tara. Willow burst into tears.

Xander shut the door on Willow's hiccupping sobs and tapped on the door he knew Spike was behind.

"You heard?"

"Yeah, pet. I'm real sorry. Come on, I'll take ya home."

"Thanks. I think I need a drink."

"Not on your life. When ya think ya need a drink, that's the worst time ta have one."

" 'Fraid you'd say that."

"Um ... Pet?"

Xander sighed. "What?"

"Poopy head?"

Xander snorted. "Willow doesn't swear."

"Figures."

Spike got Xander out of his clothing and into a hot tub. He slipped in behind him and just held him as he struggled with whether he was going to cry, rage, or just scream until he was hoarse. Spike finally took the decision out of his hands and gave him a draught the healer had left for him when he was sick. Xander willingly took it. He didn't want to deal just yet.

Xander let Spike dry him off and get him into some sweats and a t-shirt. He followed when Spike pulled him by the hand, guiding him into the bedroom and onto the bed. He groaned as he settled in the covers.

"Well, that went well. NOT! Damn, why didn't I let you gag me?"

"Maybe because you had things to say? Things it was more than time were said. Come here." Spike reached over and pulled Xander into his arms and just held him. "Go to sleep. If they're really your friends, they'll come round."

Xander gave one hitching sob. "But do I really want them to?"

"Just sleep. Things will be better in the morning."

Spike gently held Xander until he fell asleep.

Spike woke Xander the next morning by waving a cup of coffee as near his nose as he could get it, snatching it back before he could knock into it and burn himself. "Wake up, sleepy head."

"Nu-un. Gimme!" Xander emerged from the cocoon of blankets he'd created and groaned. "My head's all stuffy and I feel rotten."

Spike put his hand on Xander's forehead, he'd finally figured out how to tell if he had a fever. "Don't feel warm. What's up?"

Xander gulped boiling coffee. "Think I cried in my sleep. I feel like a fool."

"Why? Because ya feel that all your friends betrayed you? Like ya've been dumped on my doorstep like a puppy? Sorry, pet. Know it's cruel but it's true. If ya want 'em, my advice is ta give 'em a bit then start making up gradual like. Master Bruce is expecting ya in ..." Spike glanced at his watch. "Fifteen minutes."

Xander bolted the rest of his coffee and scrambled into his gi. He was right on time only because he ran all the way. Spike looked after him with affection and smiled. "Ulterior Motives, pet."

Spike thought about who he could get to teach Xander to play guitar, he'd promised almost a month ago but hadn't found anyone suitable. They were either human and refused right away or demons that Spike didn't trust. If he could find a demon that he could trust, that would be perfect.

He sighed and shook his head. Then he realized that Master Bruce had said that he had no objections to Spike sitting in on Xander's workout. He decided to follow Xander and check out any new moves he might have learned.

Xander was a bit distracted that morning and earned himself three lashes. He appealed to Spike, in a fit of stupidity, to get him out of it. Spike glanced at Master Bruce who just shrugged. "Up to you, Master Spike. I won't interfere between you and Xander. I feel he's just out of sorts from yesterday, but that doesn't excuse him. Only you can."

Xander sighed, realizing that he had put his foot in it big time. He'd disrespected his Sensei and put Spike in a bad spot. "Never mind. Color me stupid today. How do you want me?"

Spike sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Pet, I don't know but what I should add a few. You can't do that. You undermine either me or Master Bruce, or both." He turned to Master Bruce and said. "Add another two to make it five and don't cut him."

Xander grimaced. "Damn, I need to learn to keep my mouth shut."

Spike over saw the punishment to make sure that Bruce was as careful as Xander claimed he was. Master Bruce gave Xander five lashes across the meaty part of the buttocks and over his gi pants. Xander grunted once but otherwise was silent.

"Done. And there's still time for you to meditate. Perhaps upon the wisdom of playing one master against the other?"

Xander sighed. "I'm really sorry and not because you smacked my ass. My old man beat me harder for forgetting to take out the trash. I'm sorry I put you and Spike on the spot like that. And, Spike, I'd like to apologize to you too. Sorry."

Spike patted Xander on the shoulder and then pulled him around until they were forehead to forehead. "Apology accepted, pet. An' when you're done meditatin' come to the filling station. The work's done. I want you to check it out before I sign off on it."

Xander's face lit up and he gave Spike a completely unselfconscious hug. "Great. I'll just use this zafu and it'll be thirty minutes. If I can concentrate."

He settled on the cushion and Spike left him to his meditations.

Xander took a quick shower and toweled his hair roughly. "Timmins! I'm going to the station. Spike's already there, so don't worry. Ok?"

Timmins stuck his head around the bathroom door, saying with considerable amusement. "Yes, remember I'm a vampire. I can hear you fart from a thousand feet."

Xander flushed, grinned and moaned, "Crude much?And eewww, for you. That's just ... ick."

Timmins laughed too. He worried sometimes that Xander was getting too solemn, but all he had to do was tell a crude joke and Xander was giggling and blushing. He decided that Xander was just beginning to really grow up.

"That's not the worst part. I can smell almost as well as I can hear . . . Think about it the next time you sneak a bean burrito with extra green sauce and jalapenos. Please!"

Xander's blush went into overdrive and he grabbed up his cargo pants and t-shirt, stomped into his boots, zipped them and scurried out the door, grumbling, "Vamps! I swear, I'm never eating anything gassy again. That ..." Timmins picked up the bathroom, laughing at Xander as his grumbles faded into the distance.

Xander took a tour of his gardens before heading for the station. He smiled as he realized that he wasn't going to have to weed, someone had already done most of it. He assumed it was Narma and made a mental note to thank him. He examined the back part of the floor, decided that there was more than enough room for the small pond and water fall he wanted and hurried to the stairs.

Spike met him there. "What 're ya doin'? Waitin' on ya, ain't I?"

"Sorry. Just took a quick run through my gardens. I haven't had time for a bit and I wanted to make sure everything is doing well. I have to talk to Narma later, tell him he's doing a good job. Besides, what's the hurry? I'm sure it's right. You had it done, didn't you? Bet you were a real pain about it. Right?" Xander turned a twinkling eye on Spike and all Spike could do was fall into the dark chocolate orb like a rock into deep water.

"Yeah, well, come on."

Xander just followed Spike to the station. He really wanted to see what had been done. He'd done the plans and overseen the beginnings of the work. Then he'd had a 'thing' with one of the workers and Spike had taken over. Xander had been disappointed that he wasn't going to be the crew chief but he couldn't deal with demons like he could with humans. He just wasn't threatening enough, especially when the demon in question had been almost eight feet tall with a build to match. He'dreluctantly turned the job over to Spike.

Now he couldn't wait for Spike to show him the changes that had been made in the old filling station. He just hoped that the hoist was fixed. He hadn't had a chance to drive anywhere for a while but that was no excuse to let his truck go down.

Spike followed Xander smiling at his half run. He finally called out, "Oi, pet. It's not gonna disappear on ya. Slow down before ya slip."

Xander just laughed and slowed. "What's the matter, old man? Can't keep up?"

Spike grabbed Xander and tickled him until he was gasping, laughing and begging him to stop.

"Please, I'll be good. Stop, stop. Please."

"More like it, that is. Now, come on and no runnin' in the halls."

Xander gave Spike a wide-eyed look which Spike returned. "Never tell anyone."

Xander crossed his heart with an index finger. "Never. Pinky swear."

They both laughed then continued to the station.

When Xander stepped through the back door the first thing he saw was the two repair bays. One was now a complete machine shop/hoist bay with everything he'd ever need to work on his truck or any other gasoline engine. The nearer bay had been turned into a wood working shop, complete with table saw, router, band saw and hand tools. Xander smiled to see that Spike had even had the two inlaid boxes brought in from where he'd stored them in one of the lower levels. He was stunned when Spike pointed out the shelves and racks on the wall. They contained every kind of wood you could think of. From A for acanthous to Z for zebra.

"God, Spike, I think I'm gonna cry. This is great. Just ... wonderful doesn't cover it."

Spike shifted self-consciously from one foot to the other. "It's ok pet. Glad ta do it. Like ta see ya smile like that. Come in the front now. Here." Spike handed Xander a handkerchief and led the way into the front.

In the front, the changes were even more dramatic. The deep circular front window had been removed and replaced with an extension of the cinder block wall. The front door was also completely gone, now the only way into the station was from the back entry way. The domed skylight was still in place but covered, for now, with a canvas tent like covering on a heavy hook. Its lower edge set into a metal track it could be opened and closed by a small remote. The entire perimeter of the room was lined with tropical plants and small trees. Including a ylang-ylang, a Brugmansia and a very fine Jasminebush. They made a perfect backdrop for the pots and slabs of orchids.

Xander gazed in wonder at the beauty then turned to see the long glass case that used to be the sales counter. It was now filled with African violets and gloxinia, the neon bulbs replaced with grow lights. He sighed in happiness.

"This is so wonderful. I ... thanks. And I'm gonna cry. Again. Excuse me." Xander went into the repaired gentlemen's room and leaned against the sink. He couldn't believe it. It was everything he'd put on the prints. Everything he'd ever dreamed of. And Spike had just given it to him without a blink.

He sniffled himself back together and went back out to hug Spike and thank him again. Spike just shrugged. "Don't mention it, pet. Like ta see ya happy. That light in your eyes is worth it. Come on now, show me what ya can do in that wood shop. I sent Bud to get your truck."

Xander grinned, he really liked Bud. They'd become fast friends over the days. Xander still wasn't allowed out without him. Spike knew that he was a target for anyone who wanted to get at him.

"Ok, thanks. Tell him, one scratch."

Xander grinned at Spike and turned to the small inlayed box. He picked it up and took it to the wooden work table. He set it down and examined it carefully. The inlay was beautiful, geometric and complicated. The woods had been combined with lines of brass and some of the pieces were some kind of shell. He sighed, one day he hoped to be able to do such work.

"Pet?"

"It's just that it's so beautiful. Look how tight the joins are. How did he do that? And what's this? ... and that?" Xander pointed to a piece of greenish shell and a bit of pink wood.

Spike looked over Xander's shoulder at the box. "Well, don't know much but that shell is abalone and ... I've never seen wood that's that particular shade of pink. Dyed box wood?"

Xander squinted at the bit and fingered it. "I think you're right. It's really tight grained, might be Osage orange, that dyes easy. I wonder what it is. There's a key hole here. But there was no key. Maybe I can ..."

Spike just took the box from Xander's hands and put it down on the work bench. He fished in his duster pockets until he found an small leather zip folder. He unzipped the well worn case and fingered through the tools for a moment. He finally picked one and bent to the lock. It didn't take him more than a few seconds to pick it.

When they opened it, it turned out to be a writing desk. It had several cubbies that still held a few envelopes, some paper and pens and nibs. There was even a cut glass ink bottle with a silver cap. Xander ran his fingers through some chips of something and eyed another small bottle. It almost matched the ink bottle but the cap was a bit different. There were also three seals and an odd spoon in their own fitted pockets.

Xander stroked the felt on the unfolded interior of the thing with gentle fingers. "What is it? It's very nice...but I've never seen anything like it."

Spike tucked his tools away and grinned at Xander, he was really cute when he looked confused like that. "It's a writing box. Used ta be, people wrote letters, lots of 'em. I used to write ta my grandmum every week. And several cousins, two aunts and several people I went to uni with. Must have written at least ten, twelve lettersa week easy. Had a little desk in my bedchamber and a writing box. Took it with me when I traveled, not that I did much of that until after I was turned. But I'd take it into the park an' write there."

Xander touched the felt again, wondering at Spike's revelation. "Never thought about you being a letter writer person." He stirred the red chips with a finger. "What's this stuff?"

"Sealing wax. Envelopes didn't used to be gummed, had ta seal 'em with hot wax. And this ..." Spike picked up on of the seals. "This is a seal, you pressed it into the wax before it cooled. Just for pretty mostly, but also to help identify the sender."

Xander picked out one of the pen shafts. "At least I know a pen when I see it. Nice. And these nibs are really special. You can't get 'em like this very easily anymore."

"You gonna chop it up for knick-knacks?" Spike fingered the desk gently.

"Hell no! It's much too nice. I'm not about to ruin it. I'll clean it, replace the felt with something a little nicer. Maybe a piece of lamb skin, or something like it. A little buffing, a little wood oil and some polish and it'll be good as new. We'll probably fight over who gets to use it."

Spike nodded. "That' nice, pet. Hate ta see something like this ruined. Won't fight over it. It's yours."

Xander gave Spike a skeptical look but refrained from comment. Instead he went to look at the other box. It wasn't in as good a shape being scratched along one side.

"Spike, bring your pick kit again. This thing is locked too. What is it with locking everything?"

Spike stuck a cigaret in his mouth but didn't light it. "Well, mostly it kept them from flying open. See ... ok. ...um...nice." Spike mumbled to himself as he picked the lock on the bigger box. He turned it over on one flat side and started to open it. Xander stopped him with a soft exclamation.

"Wait! What if it's upside down and you wreck something?"

Spike pointed to the lock. "Not upside down. See? It's a tulip ... sort of. And lots of boxes used to have them over the lock. You check to see if the stem is down, that's how you know you've got it right side to. Ok?"

Xander smiled at Spike then ducked his head. "Sorry. Should have known better. And I'll remember that. So ... open it."

Spike opened the cover and laughed softly. "It's a clavichord. And a very nice one at that."

Xander peered over Spike's shoulder. "A keyboard? Ok, you play it?"

Spike touched the keys gently. "Yeah, if it was in tune, I could. Had lessons and everything."

Xander gently tapped a key. The sound was soft and more like a hammered dulcimer than anything else. He glanced at Spike then back at the instrument. He ran a hand over the case, seemingly searching for something. He paused a moment over the harp then shrugged.

"Got a spell on it. Bet it's in tune, permanently. Try it?"

Spike pulled the legs from their pocket and unfolded them. He set the case on the legs and made sure that they were firm. Xander brought him a chair and he settled down to play.

He played several tunes that Xander assumed were classical he even thought it might be Bach. When he finished he turned around and smiled. "I want it. I'll buy it from you."

Xander blinked at Spike for a second. "Well, you bought it in the first place, so technically it's yours to start with." He held up a hand to forestall Spike's snarl. "But, I get the writing box and you get that. Works out good for me. And … I don't want to sound like a whiner or anything ... but when do my guitar lessons start? I bet we could play together... once I get good."

Spike grimaced at the poor grammar but had given up on correcting Xander. Xander had simply said, 'When you talk good, I'll talk better.'

"I'm tryin', pet, I just can't find anyone I trust. The humans find out I'm the Master of the Hellmouth and practically run. An' I don't like the look of most of th' demons. I'm sorry."

Xander shrugged. "That's ok. As long as you haven't forgotten."

"Never. But I get the feeling that lots a people conveniently forget their promises to ya. Don't they, pet?"

Xander fiddled with a tool. "Yeah. Gets kinda old too."

Spike rubbed Xander's back. "I'll never break a promise. I swear."

Xander winced slightly. Promises like that had a habit of being broken.

"Ok, so you want it? You got it. I'll polish it up nice and pretty, fix the legs. One of them is split a bit and they all need new ends. And I'll fix up the writing desk. Want to stay and watch?"

Spike nodded, "Yeah,pet, I'll stay. Interested."

So Spike sat on a stool and watched as Xander's big hands moved over the delicate inlay with consummate skill, buffing and polishing, repairing the tiny nicks and blemishes.

When he started to repair the legs, Spike literally got down on his knees and watched him cut a peg.

"Pet, that saw's backward or I'm ... well, I'm not. But don't saws cut on the push?"

Xander raised aneyebrow at the question but answered with a smile. "American saws do. But this one is a special fine cut hand saw from Japan. It cuts on the pull because it's easier to cut small pieces and fine cuts. I really like this one because I don't have to finish the ends. I'm going to glue this and I need it a little rough to catch the glue."

Spike examined the leg, turning it in long elegant, nicotine stained fingers. "It's split along the grain, how ya gonna fix that?"

"I'm going to drill several small holes along the side opposite of the split and put in pegs. They'll show but I'll document it and it'll be ok."

Spike looked a little blank. "Huh?"

Xander gave him a slightly exasperated look. "It's an antique. There's only so much you can do without destroying its worth. If it splits and you glue it wrong it's almost as bad as chopping it up. See, if I try to hide the damage it looks like I'm trying to cheat the next buyer. But if I just peg it, stain them over and then document it. It keepsits value. Ok?"

Spike nodded. "I see. Well, thanks for that, pet. But I'll never sell it."

"I'd like to hear you play it some more."

Spike shrugged a little self consciously. "Ok. Finish up with that. I'll tell a minion to bring it up when you're done. An' heaven or hell help 'im if 'e scratches it."

Xander just grinned. "Ok. And then I'm gonna work on my truck. Bud gonna stay here? I think I'll go out to that quick stop on 5th. I want some of that special peach Slurpee. And don't make that face. I don't get a lot of sugar anymore, but this is special. Real peach, not some chemical syrup."

Spike just laughed and went out the door, calling over his shoulder, "All ri' go get your drink. But if you sneak off without Bud I'm gonna be pissed."

Xander didn't sneak out without Bud, he liked the demon too much to put him in that sort of spot. Instead, he conned the poor guy into helping him change oil, grease everything imaginable and check the hydraulic fluid, radiator and transmission. Then they headed for the quick stop.

"You up for this?"

Bud just grinned. "Yeah, I like peach. But it better be real peach. That chemical stuff is just nasty."

Xander nodded. "You're right. Ever since Spike started feeding me his blood, I can really smell and taste stuff. And ... while some chemical stuff isn't that bad, artificial flavoring just ... well, the ick factor is pretty high."

Bud laughed. "Ick factor. I like that. Where did you pick that up?"

"Buffy. She's full of LA stuff like that."

"You really know the Slayer? Man, that's ... like…suicidal."

Xander deftly guided the truck through a crowded intersection. "You don't know the half of it. I'm one of the Scoobie gang."

Bud turned in his seat. "You? Wow. I thought ... well ... shit. Can I take my foot out of my mouth now?"

"Sure. But I really am. I helped with the Judge and with the Mayor. Really would like an apocalypsefree life. You know, it gets really tiresome after a while. All that savingthe world shit. And no recognition. I'm the comic relief."

Bud gave a snort. "My ass."

"No really."

"No, I've seen you fight. I saw you before you started getting blood. You're good. Not slayer good, no one is. But ... I wouldn't want to get into a real knock down drag out with you. Especially with a sword in your fist."

Xander parked his truck in the quick stop parking lot and turned to grin at Bud. "From a body guard that's high praise. Thanks."

"Welcome. Rock, Paper, Scissors?" Xander nodded. "Ok, One! Two! Three!" Xander held out paper while Bud held out rock. "Damn!" Bud sighed. He had to pay.

They went in and got their treats without incident. Xander settled on the tailgate and sucked on his straw. Bud did the same and they drank their drinks while they watched the traffic go by.

Bud took both their cups and the rest of the trash and tossed it. He came back and they sat for a while longer.

"Wanna play a game?" Bud turned his head to look a Xander.

"Sure. Why not? ... er... it's not something that'll piss Spike off, is it?"

"No. ... I'll start. I would like to ... learn to play an instrument. Any one. I just want to make music of some kind or other. You?"

Xander thought for a moment. "I got possessed ... sorta .. By a snake eater." Bud reared up and stared at Xander. "Oh! Not the demon sort. Human soldier sort. Real hard core black ops sort. Kinda still have a lot of his memories an' stuff, they stayed after Halloween." Bud gave him a confused look. "Big thing with a costume. Long story. I'd really like to find out how much I really remember and ... stuff. Silly, right?"

Bud thought for a second. "Not really. How good are you with a rifle?"

"Not a clue." Xander shrugged. "But I'm pretty sure I can crack any electronic lock made, with the right tools. And I can field strip a Glock in ten seconds. I think. So, got any good ideas."

"Yeah. I know a guy, has a firing range. We can sneak you in the back door and give it a try. Whaddya say?"

"I say it sounds like fun. I just hope the range is outdoors. I'm tired of being inside all the time."

Bud grinned. "Outdoors it is. Let's go."

Xander drove at Bud's direction and they were soon at the firing range. It was a small range with only two long distance lanes and a short range that would only accommodate four, but it was clean and neat, in good repair and the club house was a converted residence. Xander liked the place immediately.

"Ok, now what?"

Bud looked around. "Well, we find the owner. Then we ask if we can shoot. I'll have to see what's here for rent too."

Xander sighed and nodded. "Swell." His tone of voice said that it was anything but. "Rent? What can he possibly have to rent?"

Bud grinned. "You'd be surprised. Just let me find the owner and see."

Xander settled on the nearby couch to wait for Bud. He didn't have long to wait, Bud came back with a short, stocky man with a scar across his face. He greeted them with a gravely voice and an Israeli accent.

"Name's Yakov. So, you want to shoot? I've got the goods. Come in the back and see what you want."

Xander stood up and offered his hand. The hand that shook his was hard and calloused, the grip firm with out being challenging.

"Thanks. Um ..."

Xander glanced at Bud who nodded and said, "He knows enough not to be shocked by much."

"Ok. See, the thing is. I sorta got possessed by a snake eater and I know stuff I don't know I know. I want to find out what I do."

Yakov blinked at Xander for a moment while he unraveled that. "So, ok. I'll just hand you stuff then. See what you know."

Xander grinned. "Great. I'd like to start with an AK-47. I won't insult your intelligence by asking if you've got one. Then an AR-15. Glock semi-auto. I know I know how to use a rocket launcher. But grenade launcher. Not so much."

"You know any hand to hand?"

Xander explained about his training. Yakov just snorted. "If you don't know Krav Magaw, you don't know shit. I'll teach you if you like. Master Spike needs a human body guard. And I think you're just ruthless enough to do the job."

Bud made a rude noise and got a stern look for his troubles. Xander poked him in the ribs and announced that he was going to learn. Bud gave up.

"So ok. I take you now to see the arms, then we see what you got there. Then we see what you really know about fighting."

Xander just shrugged and followed the man.

What came next made both Yakov and Bud stare. Xander went through the weapons and exhibited his skills with every long arm and hand gun in the inventory. He was sharp shooter level with every long gun Yakov had and very near it with most of the handguns under .50mm.

"I'm impressed. Very good. You're not really up to snuff with the big hand guns but I don't think you need to be. You need to be good with a knife or something for close work."

"How 'bout a gladius?"

"How you gonna hide somethin' like that, boy?"

Xander shrugged. "Ok. So let's say you show me."

Bud winced, Yakov wasn't going to cut Xander any slack because of who or what he was. Xander was in for a nasty surprise. Or so Bud thought.

Yakov settled most of Xander's questions easily. They fought. Xander held his own for a long fight but the minute Yakov got behind him, he was sunk. Yakov dumped him on his ass.

"Well, shit."

"No, good. You do very good. I like you. I'll teach you. You got good instincts and I think ... you're teacher has been taking it easy on you. You learn a lot of formal stuff, not enough dirty fighting. So ... I talk to him. Ok?"

Xander just nodded. "Yeah, you better talk to Spike first though."

Spike answered the phone again. He'd just hung up from talking to Xander's new guitar teacher. He couldn't help smirking a bit, he'd convinced the only human in Sunnydale not afraid of vampires or demons to teach the boy. Now he'd had a call from Yakov Ptomkin asking to be allowed to teach Xander. The man said that Xander had 'real promise.'

He grinned. Xander was finally beginning to live up to his potential.


	19. Chapter 19

Ulterior Motives 19

Unbetaed as my beta is doing NaNo. All mistakes are mine alone. Sorry.

Xander groaned, he ached all over. Krav Magaw was hard. Master Bruce had told Spike that he thought the lessons would be good for Xander. Yakov Ptomkin was known to him but only slightly. They had all three met to discuss what would happen. Spike had explained his expectations and Master Bruce had admitted that he was more than a bit afraid that Master Spike would intercede in Xander's behalf and destroy the Master/Student bond they'd developed.

Spike eyed Master Bruce for a moment. "Well, I wondered what was holding you back. I thought it was just that you were afraid of damaging Xander."

Master Bruce shook his head. "I was trained much more harshly, when I was just a boy, than I've trained Xander. I was afraid that you'd ... I'm not sure what."

Spike just nodded. It was right that Master Bruce should be afraid of offending or insulting him but he wanted Xander properly trained. If it took some minor physical damage to do it, well it could be healed away with masters' blood and demon healing.

Yakov spoke up, interrupting with, "I don't care about Master Vampires or any of that. I'll train the boy. He has real potential. But you don't tell me how to treat my students. If you mix in, I leave. Understood?"

Spike just shrugged. "I understand. So ... this is the way it is. No lasting damage. You can hit him if you need to. He won't object. Boy has no idea that some people consider it wrong. Just be careful of his hands. He's a carpenter and a damn good one. An' he's learnin' to play guitar. Ok?"

Yakov nodded. "I got you. You want Master Bruce should sit in? I don't mind. You sit in too."

Spike settled behind his desk. "Deal. I'll get a contract going and ... check or cash for your first payment."

Yakov stood to leave. "Gold will do. See you in two days."

Yakov had left then and returned in two days.

Now Xander was learning that Krav Magaw was not only deadly but really damn hard.

And Yakov wasn't taking it easy on him either, Xander realized. He expected certain things and he knew how to get them. Mostly by just letting Xander exhaust himself by doing it wrong several times then showing him again how to do it right. Xander sighed and stood up again.

"Ok. Ready if you are."

Yakov nodded to the young man. He was very impressed. He'd seen men older than Xander actually cry, in frustration, pain and anger. This one just got up and tried again. Yakov even admitted that he was very hard to impress.

"I'm always ready. Now, have you figured out what you're doing wrong?"

Xander shook his head. "Not a clue. I can't seem to get set, or find a center. It's pissin' me off."

"Do not get mad. You get mad. You lose. It's all about velocity. In Krav Magaw you ... explode. You don't plan. You act. Set moves don't get you anywhere in street fighting. This isn't about form or religion. Not that there's anything wrong with all that. It's just that this is about survival. Pure, simple, not easy."

Xander thought about it for a moment then said he was ready to try again. This time he just watched Yakov for a moment. When Yakov just looked back, he gave a small smile. Yakov attacked and Xander gave a funny kei, it sounded more like 'yoush' than a real kei, but it did the job. Yakov's punch was straight forward and full force. Xander swung his hands in a horizontal arch that slapped the punch aside, but instead of trying to bring his hands back to strike, he continued in a pivot that brought his foot up in a twisting kick that caught Yakov in the shoulder. This knocked him off balance and Xander followed that up with a stomp that would have cracked the man's sternum if it had connected. Yakov rolled away, managed to get to his feet and grabbed Xander from behind. This wasn't as good an idea as it seemed as Xander eeled out of the grip and ran.

Yakov laughed and called Xander back. "Very good. You run. Why?"

Xander shrugged. "I can't beat you yet. So, I ran. At least if it was real, I'd still be alive to be embarrassed."

Yakov nodded. "Good, good. You got balls, kid. You're gonna be great."

Xander sighed and looked at Spike. He wondered what Spike thought of him running. He didn't really feel that it was something to be embarrassed about. It would keep him alive long enough to do something better the next time. He said so to Yakov who nodded. "That's right. But when I'm done with you, you'll be killing bad things right and left."

Spike sauntered over. "Been killin' bad things since he was sixteen. Without a stitch of trainin'. How's he doin' really?"

Yakov shrugged his massive shoulders and smiled. "He's good. Really good. He got training in something?"

"Swords. You wanna watch him work out with Master Bruce? He's better than good."

Yakov thought about it for a moment. "Ya, I'd like. I can see what kind of moves he's got. Swords?"

"Better than guns against most demons."

"Hmmm."

Xander took his sword from Master Bruce. This was going to be hard as he wasn't quite sure exactly what Yakov was looking for.

"Xander, just do what you do. I think he's looking for dedication more that moves. Ok?"

Xander smiled a bit nervously at Master Bruce. "Ok. Just go out, do my thing. Got it."

So Xander went out to the middle of the room and went through his more difficult kata. Yakov just watched without comment. Then he asked Xander to show him what he could do with a gladius. Xander worked his way through a demonstration of gladius work and Yakov motioned him in.

Xander took the towel and bottle of water that Spike handed him. He settled on the floor near Spike's feet with Master Bruce at his side. Yakov sat down on the bench on the other side of it from Spike.

"He's good. Really good. You need to get him a better gladius, or a really good combat knife. I'm going to start in a different place than I thought I would. He's got a core of steel, that one. I won't insult him by treating him like a novice."

Spike couldn't help his self-satisfied smirk. His boy was coming alone fine.

Xander cleared his throat softly. "Sitting right here. Very much with the embarrassment. I'm not that good. Buffy's much better."

Yakov raised an eyebrow. "Buffy?"

Spike shrugged. "Slayer."

Yakov nodded in sudden understanding. "Ah! Comparing himself to a slayer. Pffft!" Yakov waved a hand. "When Master Bruce and I are done with him, he'll eat her for breakfast."

Xander gazed at Yakov like he'd lost his mind. "She's a slayer. I can't beat her."

"Bah! Slayers are all reaction, no action. You attack, she defends and hopes to get in a killing blow. I've heard that this one is more capable of making a plan than most. And her watcher is better. That doesn't change my mind a bit."

Xander turned his head to look at Spike. "So, me beat a slayer. Or you?"

Spike preened a bit. "Don't know about that, pet. But you're comin' along great. Keep at it. Mr. Ptomkin knows what he's talkin' about. So," Spike slapped both hands on his thighs. "Mr. Ptomkin, come to my office with me and I'll get your gold for you. Krugerands do?"

Yakov just nodded and followed Spike out the door.

Xander had to smile. He knew he'd done well on Mr Ptomkin's tests. He'd already learned several new moves. He was, admittedly, rather proud of himself. He also hurt, all over.

He stripped off his gi and tossed it in the general direction of the laundry basket. Strolling through the bedroom, naked, Xander raked a hand through his hair. It was getting really long in the back but every time Xander talked about cutting it Spike actually growled. He shrugged and hunted for a piece of string.

"Would you like some hair ties? I bought some, just in case." Timmins stepped into the room with a hand full of elastics.

Xander took the one Timmins handed to him and pulled his hair back. Snapping the elastic around the short pony tail, Xander turned to the filled bath tub and eased into it.

Xander's moan made Timmins laugh.

"Ass, don't laugh. That Krav Magaw stuff is harder than it looks."

Timmins just snorted. "I'm sure, Young Master. But then I'm a vampire so it doesn't make that much difference to me."

"Yeah, what with the superhuman strength and speed, as well as the healing and ..." Xander trailed off with a sigh. Timmins just got out the lineament the healer made for them.

"However, you do have an advantage over normal humans."

"Yeah, what's that? Oh, knowledgeable one?"

Timmins blessed Xander with a tiny smirk. "Master's Blood. You've been taking it for quite sometime now. You'll notice, if you think, that you heal more quickly than other humans. And you're getting stronger and faster too." He watched as Xander thought about that then got an arrested expression on his face as he was struck by some of the ramifications of that. "Oh, don't worry. You're still completely human. Master Spike won't turn you. But his blood will protect you from all sorts of things. Infection, illness, aging. Although you'll still age, just not as fast."

Xander settled back in the tub, running the wash cloth over his chest absently.

"Oi, Pet! Come out an' get yur back rub. Got things to do later." Spike's cheerful voice brought Xander back to himself. He quickly finished his wash and splashed his way out of the tub.

"Damn! Sorry, Timmins, didn't mean to make such a mess."

Timmins just shrugged. "Your master's voice. Go on, I don't mind." Timmins shooed Xander into the bedroom with a wave of his hand and a smile.

Xander went on into the bedroom and settled on the bed. Spike climbed onto the bed and straddled Xander's thighs. He began by checking that the oil was properly warm. It was, so he poured some onto Xander's back and began his work.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"What do you get out of this?"

"what? The massage?"

"Yeah. That. What are you getting out of it, beside a woodie?"

Spike didn't bother to ease his erection away from Xander's leg. "Well, pet, I get to touch you without you freakin' out on me. And you're getting used to the idea that I can touch ya without hurtin' ya. So ... it's all good, innin't it?"

Xander thought about that for a second. "Ok. Makes sense. But, I gotta tell ya, I'm more than used to that. And I'm sorta starting to think you don't want me."

Spike nearly bit his tongue. "Excuse me? I'm not sure I heard ya right."

Xander sighed. "Mom drowned all her stupid kids, contrary to popular belief. I know you want more from me than a 'kiss and a cuddle'. And the bondage stuff? So not subtle. So are we going to fuck or are you going to mess around forever?"

Spike settled back on Xander's calves and laughed. "Yeah, pet, we're gonna fuck. Sooner or later. Not right this minute but real soon. I was waitin' until I was sure you wouldn't be frightened, or disgusted."

Xander wriggled his butt under Spike. "I'm not frightened. Even a month ago, I probably would have been terrified. But I know you're not going to hurt me, that way." Spike cleared his throat, getting ready to say something, Xander didn't let him go on. "Oh, please. That's completely different from a punishment and I know it better than you do. You can relax about that. So I'm not frightened or disgusted. Timmins explained all that to me. And I found a bunch of stuff on the internet. I think I'm bi, I love who I love. I don't love you ... not yet. But I like you a lot. More than I've ever like anyone except Jessie. Or Willow. And the thought of making love, having sex, knockin' boots. Whatever. Eeeeuuuwww! can you just say incest? No, not happenin' yuck! And I'm babbling, aren't I?"

Spike laughed softly. "A bit, pet. I'm not in a great rush, we've got plenty of time. I want you used to the idea, relaxed with it. So ... just a massage and a bit of a touch? Ok? Tell me if you don't like it. Or it feels bad."

Xander just relaxed and let Spike touch him.

First all Spike did was complete Xander's massage. As Xander relaxed completely, Spike oiled his finger until it nearly dripped. Then he gently ran it over Xander's tailbone. Xander didn't stiffen or shift away so Spike eased his finger farther down. When he finally touched Xander where he really wanted to he didn't do more than massage Xander's anus until he grumbled slightly. Spike removed his finger slowly, letting Xander know that he would stop if Xander wanted him to.

"That was nice. I kinda liked it. Is that all you're going to do?"

Spike's respect for Xander increased ten fold. "Unless you want more? Don't do it if you don't feel like it."

Xander considered carefully. "Maybe show me what comes next? I have no idea what to do."

"Just relax, pet. I'll do it all. Next, this." Spike re oiled his finger and gently pressed against Xander's 'rose' easing the very tip of it in, little more than just separating the muscle. "How's that? Hurt?"

Xander sighed. His shoulders relaxed completely. "Doesn't hurt. Doesn't feel any worse than a really small plug. I've taken bigger, lots bigger."

Spike snickered softly. "Nearly had a heart attack when I saw what ya'd done to yourself. Idiot. But this is different. It's me, not a plug."

Xander moved, pushing back against Spike's hand. "Yeah, softer, not as cold. Feels ... nice. Push in a bit more."

Spike did, just up to the first knuckle, then waited for Xander's reaction. All Xander did was sigh again. Spike eased in a bit more then wriggled his finger a bit.

"How's that, pet?"

"Now that feels ... odd. Hold still for a bit?"

Spike gritted his teeth, he was going to have to have a proper wank after this. "Ok, but I think this is all for now. I can't take much more."

Xander grunted as Spike slowly pulled his finger out. "Not bad. Didn't hurt, in fact, I kinda liked it. More?"

Spike shook his head. "Not just yet, luv. Let ya think about it, yeah? Now, there's a message for ya. Your secretary took several, best see to 'em. I'm gonna take a shower. Scat!"

Xander rolled over and pulled Spike down onto his chest. "Ok, I'm all oily, but Timmins can give me a toweling off. You shower, have a ... what do you call it? Oh, yeah, a wank. And ... Spike?" Spike just raised his eyebrow. "Thanks ... for not rushing me. Kiss?"

Spike leaned down to oblige, not trying to hide his condition below the belt. Xander kissed back with careful concentration. Then Spike pried himself off Xander and sauntered into the bathroom, whistling softly.

Xander stared after him for a moment then muttered, "Ulterior motives? I think." He gently touched himself trying to recapture the feeling of Spike touching him. He sighed and gave up. Calling Timmins, he got the oil wiped off and Timmins handed him some clothing.

After dressing, Xander went to his office to get his messages. He read through them with difficulty but didn't say anything to his secretary. Sylvia tried hard and couldn't help it that she really didn't understand that Xander really wanted the messages left on his machine. He decided to have another talk with her later.

"I have an appointment with Tara at the Espresso Pump in ..." Xander glanced at his watch. "Twenty-five minutes. Tell Spike, ok? I have to leave now or I'll be late." Xander hurried out calling to Bud as he went.

Bud met him in the garage where Xander was having an argument with Arnold.

"Look, just get my truck. I got to get going or I'm going to be late."

"I'm not giving you a vehicle until I know Master Spike said it was ok." Arnold's cross armed stubborn look made Bud cringe.

Xander just looked at him for a moment. "Get my truck, now."

"Not until I know you have permission. I'll send Frankie to ask."

Xander gave a huff of expiration. "Him? He's only half there. It'll take him forever. Just get the damn truck. If I have to get it myself, you're not going to be happy."

"Not gettin' that truck, I said."

Xander just shrugged. "Ok. Be that way. Bud?" Bud started to react but all he had to do was catch Arnold as he collapsed. Xander had pulled a huge knife from somewhere in his clothing and stabbed Arnold in the belly. He'd refrained from cutting his guts out, just stabbing in and jerking the blade back out. He handed the knife to Bud. "Clean that, will ya?"

Xander glanced around, found his truck and headed for it, keys in hand. Bud followed after, wiping the knife on a chunk of t-shirt he'd cut off Arnold.

"Ruthless much?"

Xander looked at Bud for a second. "Sure thing. I'm Spike's. No one else has the right to refuse me anything unless it's a direct order from Spike. And I don't like that little shit. Never have. So, ruthless? Yeah. Never said I was a nice guy, just a white hat. And I'm gettin' over that. Besides, vampire, won't die?"

Bud handed over the knife, Xander put it away and drove out the roll up door. Headed for the Espresso Pump and his meeting with Tara.

Tara looked up happily when Xander sat down in the chair opposite her. She had been reading from a leather bound book, a small frown on her face.

Xander took the book from her, glanced at the title and set it aside. "That's all bullshit. You want a good book on the subject of fertility spells try Ushod's Fruitfulness. Much better and in Greek. If ... call Giles, I think he has a copy. Oh, and hello."

Tara had to smile at Xander. "Hello to you too. I already ordered. The coffee should be here soon. I wanted to talk to you without all the ... craziness. Thanks for coming."

Xander shrugged. "Welcome. So ... Willow driving you to distraction with her whining? Or am I out of line?"

"Not out of line and yes, she is. She's just not taking this as well as she should. She won't even admit that it was her fault. She's all for blaming everyone but herself. So ... I don't know what to do." Tara picked at the hem of her blouse for a moment then stilled her hands as the waiter came with the coffee.

Xander thanked the man and put a twenty on his tray, telling him to keep the change. He smiled, took the money off the tray and stuffed it into his apron. He made the change in front of Xander, showed him the five dollars and asked, "You sure? It's a fiver."

Xander snorted. "Sure. And when this cup is empty I want another, with whipped cream. Thanks."

Tara looked startled. "I thought I got it right. That's what you drank the other day. I'm sorry."

Xander shook his head. "This is exactly right. Exactly what I had before. It's just that I like whipped cream but I didn't have time to mess with it. I had to get into that room fairly quickly so that Buffy didn't piss Spike off too much. Sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion. Buffy isn't really going to be a problem, is she? Unless she apologizes me to death."

Tara shook her head. "No, she said that if Spike didn't start something she wasn't about to finish it. She's just glad that Spike isn't going to upset the status quo. Willow's the problem, she's trying to find a spell. A charm. A chant. Something to ease her guilt."

Xander made a face. "That's too bad. You know what Spike's going to do if someone tried to take me away from him?" Tara shook her head then sipped at her coffee. "I'm not sure myself. But end of the world as we know it isn't far wrong. He'll tear up Sunnydale at the very least. So. What do we do? You have any idea?"

"That's what I was doing with that book. There was something somewhere about consummation and a blood spell or something. I thought if I could find it and you and Spike could do the spell ... even if it isn't really ... workable?" Tara wrinkled her brow in thought. "Well, you know what I mean. Maybe she'll give up. Get her mind back on her college work and stop obsessing. What do you think?"

Xander sipped his coffee and thought. He reached over and picked up the book, flipping through it he found the spell Tara was thinking of.

"This one. The Right of Thing ... something unpronounceable. But it's a binding spell. Exchange of blood and ... um ... I hate hand written spell books. These fuckers can't spell any better than I can and I swear, scribe or not, they write worse. You see if you can't figure it out."

Xander passed the book to Tara and waited as she struggled with the spidery, scrawling handwriting. She finally frowned. "Well, argus? Argen .. Something. Damn. Oh, sorry."

Xander waved his cup negligently. "Don't worry about it. You should hear my Mom."

Tara fired up a bit. "Don't want to. She's not a nice lady. Sorry for the insult to you."

Xander put down his cup and pulled the book over to his side of the table again. "Well, let me see. I wish the lighting was better. The parchment is ... bad, poor quality. I can make better myself. And might I just say Yuck. Nasty process." While he'd been speaking, Xander had been turning the book back and forth trying to get a better light on it. "Ok, finally. Be nice if the light was better. Or I had a strong source. No chance in here. Dim isn't the word."

Tara rummaged in the huge bag she always carried and produced a small halogen bulb flashlight. "How about this? Will this help?" She handed it to Xander who grinned at her and used it to highlight the word he was trying to read.

"Got it. Argenteum. Silver. We have to exchange blood, which we've already done. And money, done that too. There's no chants or spells, just the exchanges. Think that'll convince Willow?"

Tara bit at her lip. "I don't know. I hope so. I'll tell her I asked you about it." Tara shrugged. "If she believes me." Tara stuffed the book into her bag and picked up her coffee. "I'll just have to try."

Buffy startled them both by leaning into their lines of sight. "Hey! How's everything? Xander, the ol' ball and chain let you out?"

Xander took the remark in the spirit it was intended and shrugged. "Got an escort. He's just over there." Xander lifted his second cup in Bud's direction. Bud just nodded back then returned to his paper. "Good guy. Works out with me sometimes. So, what's the what?"

"Not what. Just ... bleh. I've been checking around and ... frankly, the council needs its butt kicked. Majorly. I'm not going into it until I'm really sure, but I think those old geezers need ... a mental enema. They've been telling Slayers that all demons are evil, with a capital E. Only mostly they're not. I wonder ... never mind. It's too depressing for words. Just ... take my word for it ... I'm going to be asking questions before I kill demons anymore. I mean, sure, there's some that are just nasty, end the world types, but there's others that just want to do a night's work and go home to the mate and spawn. Vampires, on the other hand, are still fair game. Except for two exceptions. Unless my ex-honey goes all Angelusey on us then ..." Buffy looked at Xander's face then Tara. "Never mind. I came to mend fences not whine. No more whiney girl. Just happy face Buffy. Now. Tell me what you've been up to ok?" Buffy put on her patented bright-and-shiny-girl face and settled in to listen to Xander.

Xander knew better than to try to get Buffy to talk about whatever was bothering her, until she was ready all they'd get was that too cheerful cheerleader smile and some bland excuse or other. Instead of worrying about it, he told Buffy and Tara about his orchidarium, gardens and woodworking. He also told about his training. Buffy was much more interested in the training than she was the gardens. Tara was more interested in the gardens. All in all they spent the next two hours listening to Xander prattle on about his doings.

Finally Xander glanced at his watch. "Look, I'd stay longer but I have a translation I need to work on and Spike is expecting me back soon. I better get on the stick and get out of here."

Buffy stood. "You going to be all right? Do I need to have the shovel talk with Spike? Really, Xander, I'm not going to apologize any longer it's getting worn out. But ... you need me, call. Ok?"

Xander smiled at Buffy. "Well, I won't say it's ok, cause it's not. But ... I know that you'd have done something if you'd been paying attention. And that's the best you're ever going to get from me. Ok?"

Buffy nodded once. "It'll have to be, won't it?" She looked sad for a moment then brightened. "At least he doesn't keep you from going out and seeing people. Um ... see you soon?"

"Remember, I'm learning Krav Magaw from Yakov Ptomkin. And may I just say ... ow!"

He waved to Buffy as she grabbed her purse and dashed off, calling over her shoulder. "Stay in touch. Bye."

Xander turned to Tara who just shook her head and finished her coffee. "Well, blast of fresh air. Or something."

"Or something." Xander agreed. He finished the last of his second cup of coffee put the cup down and leaned back in his chair. "How's Giles doing, really?"

"Not bad. He feels really sad about all this. He thinks ... well, knows, that he should have done something. He's wallowing in guilt he won't feel ... right until he makes amends. Something about balance?"

Xander bit at his lip for a moment. "Not sure where that's coming from. Have to look into it." He sighed. "I really meant it when I said that I needed to get going. So ... I'm outa here." Xander stood up, tossed some money on the table and held out his arms. "Hug?" Tara slid into his arms, gave him a quick, firm hug and stepped back.

"Wow, some body you're hiding under all that."

Xander grinned. "What, a flannel shirt is all that? It's chilly out. Besides, what are you doing admiring my physique, you got a girl friend. Bye." Xander hurried off, worried that Spike would worry. Bud fell in beside him and they left. Neither one heard Tara say, "Maybe not for long."

Spike met Xander at the door to their quarters.

"You're almost late, pet. Come on. Guitar teachers' going to be here any second. Want you dressed a bit better than that."

Xander just snorted. "Want to show me off?"

"Of course. Worth showin' off. Here." Spike pointed to a pile of clothing on the bed. Xander just stripped off and changed. It wasn't worth arguing about, besides, he liked dressing nice.

The clothing Spike had put out for him was a pair of linen trousers, a silk shirt and Gucci loafers without socks. Xander was pleasantly surprised to see that the trousers were very dark brown and the shirt was about two shades lighter. The loafers were that dark reddish brown called Ox-blood. Xander pulled them on without comment, content that Spike liked the way he looked.

Xander had to admit that he looked much nicer now that Spike was choosing his clothing. He'd never had money enough to worry about more than being decently covered. Willow had indulged her love of odd, bright things when she bought him birthday and Christmas presents. He wasn't complaining. He'd been glad enough to get them. But now he realized how truly awful they'd really been. He smoothed a hand over his hip, checked his pocket for guitar picks and grabbed his guitar case. Spike was, by now, waiting in the main library to introduce him to his teacher.

Xander opened the library door and entered, carrying his case. One second later he was standing stock still, gazing at Giles, wondering 'What the hell?'

Spike came toward him, collected his guitar case and led him to Giles. "Here's your guitar teacher, pet. I'm going to be siting right here. Pay attention."

Xander settled into the chair Giles pointed to. "Hello, Xander. I hope it's all right with you that I took the job. I am competent to teach the instrument, you know. It's one of the ways I made my living during my rebellious years. Ethan used to laugh his head off. I'm classically trained, but I favor folk and rock. You favor country, I think?"

Xander shrugged. "Only when I'm depressed. I like classical, jazz, folk and rock." Giles gave Xander a sharp look. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Pick a style. But why? Why can't I just pick songs I like?"

Giles shrugged, settling his guitar on his lap. "No reason I can see. I'm more in favor of you learning what you like. And there's plenty of really good stuff out there that is simplistic enough for a beginner, but with enough challenge that an intermediate or advanced student can still use it. So ... you'll just love this."

Xander groaned, he knew that tone of voice. "Yeah, I bet. What is it?"

"Scales."

Spike groaned, a hollow, haunted sound. "Fuck."

Xander looked from Giles to Spike. "Ok, so? Scales. How is that any different from hours of kata? What do I do first?"

So Giles showed Xander how to play scales. Xander carefully went through the three beginner scales that Giles taught him. He didn't protest, or argue, although he did remark with a grin, "Just scales? I don't even get Twinkle? Oh, well."

Giles, recognizing an olive branch when it was shoved in his face, just smiled back. "Twinkle next week, scales now."

Giles had sat next to Xander and guided him through the scales, correcting him, gently repositioning his fingers. Spike looked on from over his paperwork.

Giles finally leaned back to watch Xander as he patently ran through the beginner scales again and again. Spike smiled as he watched. Xander was concentrating on his work with the single-minded fixation that he gave to any study he bent his mind to. Giles was watching in amazement as the, to him, usually feather-headed young man learned the finger positions and notation rapidly.

"Well, that was different. Xander, I've always said you just don't apply yourself. That was ..." Giles blinked once as Xander stood up, put his guitar in it's case and faced him.

"If you're going to do that, we're not continuing the lessons." Xander turned to Spike. "I won't be insulted in my own house. I always apply myself. I know eight demon languages and six ancient human languages. I can read and write them all. So I really don't think that 'you don't apply yourself' is the problem." Giles opened his mouth but Xander cut him off. "Rupert, I really don't care to discuss it. Stay, teach, pay a few earned compliments or go. End of story. Excuse me."

Xander left the guitar in the library, as that was where he was going to practice, and stormed out of the room. He went into his garden to walk and think, leaving Giles sitting, open mouthed and astonished, in the library with Spike.

"Well, you great git, that was impossibly stupid. The boy knows more demon languages than you do. Ancient Sumerian, Hieroglyphics, hieratic, demotic, Greek, Latin, an' I don't know what all. And you open your gob and tell him he don't apply himself? Where the hell is your head?"

Giles pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really don't know. I'm usually not so ... heavy handed. Buffy's driving me spare. Willow is ... experimenting with some rather dark magic and Buffy seems to think I ought to be able to stop her. I'm Buffy's Watcher, not Willow's keeper. Tara is worried too and that doesn't make things much better, she's always ... never mind. That's no excuse for my managing to put my foot in it like this."

Spike nodded. "That's right. You're gonna have to run him down and apologize. He won't leave the house. I'll have Timmins find him for you."

But Timmins didn't find Xander. He searched. He got Bud and Sylvia to search. Then he went back to Spike and told him Xander was no where to be found. Spike rubbed his face.

"Did you go to the station? He might be there, tending to the new plants."

Timmins sent a minion to check. No Xander.

Spike was beside himself. Xander knew better than to leave the residence, didn't he? He was sure that he'd told him not to leave without at least Bud with him. But if he wasn't in the residence, where was he?

Xander wandered around the garden for a while. He checked the conditions of the beds, looking to see if they needed watering or weeding. He smelled his roses and listened to the stream babble. It didn't help. He was still mad and probably would stay that way for a while. He needed to get out.

He went on to the station to look at the orchids and violets. They were in good shape. One of the new orchids was putting out a bud spike. Xander had to smile at that.

After spending a while with that, Xander went back to the garage bay that he'd turned into a workshop. He was still reconditioning the clavichord. It needed a few bits of inlay reglued and another coat of polish. He messed with that but couldn't settle.

He had a translation in the office so he decided to go take a look at it. It had been delivered here by a rather confused demon. He'd handed it to Xander muttered something about William the Bloody and pets then left.

Xander looked the parchment over. It was in fair shape, nearly two hundred years old and not worth worrying about. He mumbled, "Love charm in Yiddish? What next?" and tossed it back down.

He paced around for a bit more then decided that he was going out. The minion who was searching for him missed him by about two minutes. He decided to go to the espresso pump for coffee. Completely forgetting that he wasn't supposed to leave the residence without a bodyguard.

Xander took a short cut from the station down to the next level and then to the garage, through a door that was hidden behind a stack of barrels. He got his truck and just drove away.

He steered through traffic absently, paying more attention to his thoughts than to traffic. He couldn't believe Giles. He finally decided to leave it up to fate. If Giles showed up for his next lesson, he'd let it slide. Unless Giles was stupid enough to start it all up again. Then – watch out.

He pulled into the parking lot at the end of the block from the Espresso Pump and parked as close to the street light as he could get. It wasn't dark yet but he wasn't sure when he was going to leave so he decided, better safe than sorry.

He locked his truck and headed into the coffee bar. He just wanted a cup of coffee and some time where he wasn't doing something. Just a bit of time to goof off. He thought maybe he'd see someone he knew.

When he saw Buffy and Tara he called out to them. "Hey! Hi! Can I sit with you? Please?"

Buffy moved around the tall table a bit so that she, Tara and Xander were equidistant around the table. It gave them all enough elbow room that they didn't feel crowded.

Tara smiled at him and asked, "Would you like something, or are you just here for the atmosphere?" which was a bit silly as the atmosphere was pseudo-industrial neo- something. Xander never had figured out exactly what the decor was supposed to be.

"Coffee, lots of it. I really want a double double espresso with a grain or two of sugar."

Tara just got up to get it. Xander started to call after her but Buffy stopped him.

"She's giving me a chance to talk to you. Ok?" Xander nodded. "I'm sorry I was such a shit. Really. I ... well, I was a bit jealous at first. Then we, Giles and I, got busy with that incursion. And can I just say, anticlimactic much? So ... I should have done something. I'm not quite sure exactly what, except maybe nag Giles until he looked at all the crap Spike left. But anyway, I'm really sorry."

Xander sighed, he didn't like keeping grudges, the baggage was way too heavy. Besides, Buffy was right. She was a slayer, she didn't do magic and no amount of research would have helped her figure out what Willow had done.

"Never mind, Buff, you did what you could and that's all you can do. Forgiven. Just do me a real favor and stay away from Spike as much as you can. He won't do anything to me if you piss him off. But ... well, I don't really want to find out what might happen if he loses a fight to you. Ok?"

Buffy nodded, sucking the last of her Mochachino frosty out of the glass. "Ok. Giles and the Council seem to have some sort of agreement with all the High Masters. We don't stake you and you keep your people under control or something. Seems the Hellmouth is an exception to most of the rules of order. I've been told in no uncertain terms not to stake, annoy or other wise piss Spike off. Sucks, but there you are."

"Well, thanks anyway. We good?" Xander gave Buffy an accessing look.

"Yeah, we're good. And I said we're not going over this again and here we are, tromping all over it. I guess I'll keep apologizing until I don't feel so guilty." Xander just waved a hand then grabbed his coffee again. Buffy glared at her watch like it'd done something wrong. "Shit! I gotta book. Homework, then patrol, then study group. Bye."

Buffy slid out of the seat and waved to Tara, who was coming back with Xander's coffee. Tara waved back and smiled watching Buffy scurry to the door and out. She looked like any other SoCal college freshman. Looks can be so deceiving.

Xander smiled at Tara and took the cup from her hand. He swallowed half in two quick gulps. Tara reached out as if to take the cup, crying out, "Xander, it's hot!"

Xander put the cup down. "Don't worry, Tara. Thanks, but I've got asbestos mouth. I can drink stuff so hot it's nearly boiling." He followed this with a gentle smile. "So what's the what?"

Tara sighed softly. "I'm sorry about Willow. She doesn't like change, and ... well, she's ... I'm not sure. Just different. And I'm a bit scared. She keeps doing stuff. Stuff she shouldn't. That spell she worked on you and Spike. She ... it wasn't ... she didn't just mess it up, she changed things around so much that by the time she got done it was a different spell entirely. And you're the one to suffer for it. I ... "

Xander reached out and took her hands, keeping her from picking the hem out of her sleeve. "I know. This is the second time for you too. Wonder when ..." Xander sighed and continued. "The only two people here who really have anything to apologize for are Giles and Willow. Willow, she'll get around to it sooner or later. Giles? I'm not too sure about. But ... Spike got him to agree to teach me guitar. Only he put his foot in it just now and I'm kinda mad at him. I left to cool off." He took another sip of his coffee. "So apology accepted. And ... um ... there's a blessing I want. If you'd do a blessing for luck in love, I'd really appreciate it. As long as you do it yourself, no Willow. Ok?"

Tara nodded. "Sure thing. Love, huh? And who's the lucky ..." Tara looked at Xander, he was shaking his head slowly from side to side. "Oh, Spike? Well, that's good, I guess?" Tara gave Xander a rather forlorn look. "Isn't it?"

Xander shrugged. "Better than hating him. But I'm really not sure, I think I might. He's really good to me. He takes care of me. And stuff. And he ... well, he said he'd punish me when I needed it. But not do me any harm. So far, he hasn't. And I'm happy. So, so far it's all good. And I'm babbling or something."

Tara smiled into her cup. "Me too. But ... oh, well. And look at the time. I have to go. Willow and I have study group and the class is really hard so I need it. I better go. Bye."

Tara got up, grabbed her bag and, after promising to do the blessing Xander wanted, hurried out.

Xander just sat, watching the people in the seating area. He didn't want to go back to the residence yet, but he was bored with no one to talk to. Just like always, he'd been allowed to peek in the door, but not come in. He'd had ten minutes of attention, an apology that didn't really do him any good and off they'd gone. He realized that his girls weren't his anymore.

He finished the dregs of cold coffee and looked out the window. He'd been sitting here, sipping coffee and thinking for the last two hours. It was nearly dusk and he decided that he needed to get back home.

Spike was frantic, no one could find Xander. He was no where in the residence, they'd even searched the forbidden levels. He paced the library snarling at every being that came into the room.

Giles watched in sorrow. He was responsible for Xander's flight and he regretted it. He hadn't realized how much Xander had progressed until just now. He kept reminding himself that he was Buffy's Watcher that was his duty. The rest of the children weren't his responsibility. If they weren't, why did he feel so guilty?

Spike snarled at the minion that came into the room. It hovered by the door until Spike noticed it then at his snarl it mumbled, "Arnold says that Master Xander has come back. He's in the garage now. Do you ..." but the rest of the sentence went unuttered. Spike was out the door and headed for the garage.

Giles picked up his guitar case and decided that he'd be getting home. He didn't want to be between Xander and Spike in their confrontation. He followed Spike to the garage where he'd parked his car.

He was vaguely aware of Spike in the back of the garage yelling at a young looking vampire, but he decided to stay out of it. He saw Xander standing there to. He looked a bit defiant but no more so that some of the times Giles had reprimanded him for some carelessness or other. Giles thought it wasn't out of line of Spike to want to know where Xander was. Nor that he wanted Xander to take a demon body guard with him. He sighed, pushed his guitar case into the back seat and drove out through the open garage door.

Xander sighed, he knew he was in trouble the minuted he'd pulled into the garage. Arnold's self-satisfied expression and snarky comments made it clearer.

"You're not allowed to leave the garage until Master Spike gets here. He said. And I'm supposed to park your truck and give him the keys. So hand 'em over."

Xander just glared at him. "I'll give Spike the keys myself. And I'll park my truck myself. You stay away from it. Got me?"

Bud, standing nearby winced. This was not going well already. Arnold knew exactly what he was doing. He was getting Xander in as much trouble as possible. The snark and attitude were absolutely guaranteed to get Xander on his high horse.

So Xander stood by his truck for a moment then hopped in and moved it to its usual place in the garage, locked the door and pocketed the keys. He'd rather have parked it in the station but he wasn't going to push his luck, Spike sounded mad enough as it was.

He was just getting ready to go look for Spike when he swept in coat tails flaring with the speed of his approach. Xander sighed, he was probably in for it no matter what he said. He decided to keep his mouth shut until he had a better idea of how pissed Spike was.

Arnold, however, had other ideas. "Master Spike, I told him that you wanted me to park the truck and he ... moved it himself. And he put the keys in his pocket, he was supposed to turn them over to me. And he didn't. He's going to embarrass you one of these days, just you wait."

Spike eyed Arnold for a moment then just turned to Xander. "This true? I told him to park the truck and get the keys. Why didn't you do what I said?"

Xander stiffened, Spike knew that Xander didn't like Arnold and didn't want him driving his precious truck. Now he was mad too.

"Because you didn't tell me that. I don't answer to minions. You said so. So I parked it and waited for you. You want the keys?" Xander took the keyring out of his pocket and extended it to Spike. "Here they are. I'd appreciate it if you'd make it clear to that toad that he's not to drive it."

Spike made a big mistake, he handed the keys to Arnold and told him to lock them up in the key safe. He didn't tell Arnold not to drive it. Arnold gave Xander a smug look over Spike's shoulder.

Spike snarled, "I told you never to leave without at least Bud with you. Now come on. You're in for a punishment and I'm not ..." Spike turned to see that Xander was still standing right where he'd been.

"Not until you tell that little sneak not to drive my truck. I don't need this on top of everything else."

Spike reached out to grab Xander. Xander used a circular withdrawal to shake off Spike's hand. Spike stepped back and snarled, "you better do what I say. I don't care what you need. You'll do as I say and stay safe or else."

"Or else what?" Xander shouted, "cause I really want to know."

"I'll belt you til you can't sit. That's what."

Xander froze then snarled, "You better never. You lay a belt on me and I'll be gone so fast you'll feel the breeze. Hear me?"

Spike blinked once then said in a flat cold voice. "You can't. The curse will punish you worse than I will. You'll never be at peace until you come back to me. I'm not sure what the punishment will be like but I don't think you'll like it much. In fact, we'll just see what the punishment will be."

Xander scoffed at that. "Can't be away from you? I've been miles away from you and nothing happened. I was ..."

Spike interrupted Xander. "Working. With my permission, I might add. We'll just see what happens if you're away from me without my permission. You'll learn your lesson now, instead of later. Take him!"

Xander tried to fight and did a considerable amount of damage, but in the end he was taken and bound. One fledge started to smack him but Spike staked him from behind before he could do more than raise his hand.

"My boy! I punish him, not you. You wankers even look like you're going to give him what for an' I'll stake you too. Got me?" Heads nodded vigorously. "Bring him."

So they did, they dragged him down a flight of stairs and into a room. It was small and half a floor down from the garage proper. It was probably meant as a break room but it was empty and cold.

Spike dragged Xander over to the wall and grabbed a chain that dangled from a ring. He jerked Xander around and chained his wrists together behind his back. Then he wrapped the other end of the chain around Xander's neck. He used heavy locks but he only pulled the chains tight enough that Xander wouldn't forget they were there. Then he ripped Xander's clothing off.

Xander didn't say anything. He knew he'd pushed it too far this time. But he wasn't allowing anyone, not even Spike to take a belt to him like his father had. Not happening. So now he was in a mess. He turned his head away and refused to look at Spike.

Spike snarled, "you think you can resist the call of the curse. Fine, have it your way. Resist."

He stomped to the stairs and started up, half way he turned to look back. If Xander would only apologize. But Xander still wouldn't look at him, wouldn't see the wistful look Spike cast his way.

Spike went up the stairs and snarled at Arnold. "If you so much as look at my boy's truck I'll dust you. Got me?"

Arnold nodded. Every demon, vampire and human in the residence trembled. No one wanted to deal with Spike in a temper. And his was as foul as it could get.


	20. Chapter 20

Ulterior Motives 20

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: 20

Word count:

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, spanking, mild bondage, blood, gore, bad language, and any other thing I can come up with.

Parings: S/X

Summary: Willow casts a friendship spell on Xander. Her magic goes awry, as usual. Neither Spike nor Xander gets what she expects.

Betaed by: Skippyscatt

—

Spike paced his office restlessly. He wanted Xander, here, now. But it wasn't going to happen. He also wanted to torture Arnold to dust, that might happen if he could find an excuse.

Spike knew Xander hadn't meant to cause so much trouble, but Spike was going to be master in his own house. And Xander couldn't act stubborn like that. He was Spike's thrall and would act like it or suffer the consequences. Spike couldn't keep him safe if he didn't behave himself. He loved his boy. He knew that, but he also knew that if he was soft on him they'd both get killed. Xander would get himself in a confrontation with some wannabe Master and that would be that. Spike would kill the wannabe and be lost in blood lust until someone dusted him. Not good for anyone.

So Xander had to have his nose rubbed in the fact that he was still Spike's thrall, no matter how indulgent he, Spike, was. Xander was going to get the full effect of being away from his master without permission. With permission, he could go hours without contact, without it, he couldn't stand to be more than six feet away without repercussions. And in this case he didn't have permission to be away. Spike doubted anyone would understand how it worked, but it did.

He wanted so much, wanted: to fuck him silly, to smack him up a side the head, give him chocolate, to give him his new gladius, to turn him over his knee and spank him until he begged forgiveness. He wasn't going to do any of that. He _was_ going to make him suffer from their separation until he begged to be let back. He wasn't going to like it. It set his plans back by months.

Spike picked up the library table and smashed it to splinters, very tiny splinters.

—

Xander was chilled to the bone. He couldn't stop shivering. And everything hurt, not a great pain like a bruise, just a low level hurt like an over worked muscle. He wanted Spike to come back and get him. He knew he was wrong, his stubbornness had popped out at the wrong time. He also knew that Spike would come to get him when he decided it was time, not even begging would bring him sooner. So Xander did what he did best, he endured.

And while he endured he thought. Spike was definitely being patient with him. He knew exactly what Spike wanted. He just wasn't sure he was ready yet. He'd enjoyed the finger fuck a lot, but he was, as Faith had told him, nervous as a virgin in a whore house. And a butt plug was very different from a dick. He paced in his agitation, worrying at his decision. He'd liked everything they'd done so far. He just wasn't, well, he was. Only ... he realized that he was dithering again. He had to make a decision and stick to it.

Xander realized that he was scratching at his arms. He felt like ants were marching up and down his arms and legs with hobnail boots on. He wished Spike would come get him.

He didn't see Arnold, crouched in the shadows near the stairs, sneering at him.

—

Spike was in a foul mood, it had been twelve hours, Xander should be feeling the full effects of their separation by now. He snarled, paced, kicked the furniture and in general acted like a very pissed off Master Vampire. In capital letters. He was going to find someone to torture soon.

"Timmins! Come here! ... No! Go see my boy. See what he's doin'."

Timmins just stuck his head in the door, nodded and left again. He wasn't about to be in the same room with Spike if he could avoid it. Spike's temper was on a hair trigger and all it would take to set him off was a wrong look. Timmins didn't intend to be the one who looked at him wrong. Let someone else get gutted.

—

Xander worried about Buffy, Tara and Willow. His two meetings with Buffy and Tara had been almost identical. He knew that Buffy felt really bad about his predicament and Tara, poor, kind hearted girl that she was, felt even worse. Willow didn't seem to want to admit that she'd done anything wrong still and Xander was beginning to get pissed at her. Which upset him. He didn't want to be mad at her, but she wasn't doing anything to make him forgive her. He paced from one end of the chain to the other, walking a long arc from wall to wall at the end of it.

He wondered about Giles. What did he want? Did he want to make up, or was he just afraid that Spike would start something with Buffy if he didn't suck up? Xander decided he didn't care. As long as Giles taught him to play guitar and didn't treat him like a retarded three year old, it was all good. Xander bit his lip. He really felt terrible. He wasn't going to cry, really he wasn't. It had been hours, he'd called out, but no one had answered. He wondered how long Spike was going to leave him.

—

Timmins checked on Xander and saw Arnold gloating. He handled it like any gentleman's gentleman. He chucked the idiot out on his ear. Literally. He returned to see Xander sitting on the floor, rocking and whimpering. He'd gouged bloody furrows into his arms and legs. Timmins sighed. This was not good.

"Young Master. You must stop that. You'll do yourself an injury. Master Spike won't like that at all. Now. Let me look at you."

Xander stumbled to his feet. "I feel terrible. Now I know what Spike was talking about. If . . . why ... why doesn't he come for me? Please. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. He can punish me any way he wants to. Just ... I need him to ... please?" Xander knew he was becoming incoherent but he didn't care, he just wanted Spike to come for him.

Timmins looked Xander over, smelled him and took off. Fast. The man was in terrible shape and going down hill as Timmins watched. He needed to get Spike fast. After all Xander was asking for him. It occurred to Timmins that he didn't see the vampire that Spike had told to listen for Xander to call for him. He thought for a moment then went to find him, which didn't take long. The idiot was sitting in the garage drinking a beer. When Timmins asked him what he thought he was doing, he told him that Arnold was listening for Xander to call Spike.

Timmins punched him in the face so hard he crushed in his cheekbone. "Idiot, Arnold is jealous of Master Xander. He left him to suffer. He's probably been calling for High Master Spike forever. Go stay with the young master. I'll fetch Master Spike myself. Just pray that Master Spike doesn't decide to gut you."

Timmins made it to Spike's office in record time.

"Sir, that fool you left to listen for Xander's call was in the garage drinking beer. He left Arnold to watch Xander. I think he's been calling for you for some time now. He's in a terrible state. You better hurry."

Spike took off at a dead run. When a Master Vampire chooses to run, it's very fast. When a High Master runs, he just disappears. It took Spike no time at all to get to Xander.

By now he was in a truly pitiable state. He was now kneeling on the floor, still naked, leaning against the wall rocking and banging his head against it. He was moaning and whispering.

Spike stood for a moment to listen. "I'll be good. Please come, please, please. I'm sorry. I am. Really, really sorry. I won't leave again. I won't, I won't. Please."

Spike strode forward, keys in hand. He unlocked the locks and tossed them on the floor. He unwound the chains and dropped them. He pulled Xander into his arms and hugged him.

"You silly sod. What've you done to yourself?" Spike licked at the small trickle of blood that had run down the side of Xander's face. "You ... oh, hell, come on." Spike took the blanket from Timmins and wrapped it around Xander. He eyed the vampire who was supposed to have been listening for Xander's first call. "I'll deal with you later. Do _not_ go _any_where."

The vampire nodded, wide-eyed. "No, master, I'll be here. Right here."

Spike glared over Xander's shoulder and snarled. "You better be."

Xander was clutching at Spike's shoulders, so he turned his attention to soothing and comforting him. "Hush, pet. I never meant to leave ya this long. Just until ya asked for me. Didn't know that wanker was gonna be a shit. Me an' Arnold have a talk coming." He eased Xander away from the wall some more, pulling him into a closer embrace. "Timmins, why don't you see that our friend stays here?"

Timmins picked up the chain and wrapped it around the vampire's waist, the lock clicked with a finality that made the minion shudder.

—

Spike took Xander back to their quarters. He had to nearly carry him, but when he tried to pick him up, Xander refused saying softly, "Better not. Let them all see."

Spike agreed but had to mutter, "Stubborn git." He let Xander stumble along at his own pace holding him up, one arm around his waist.

When they finally got to their quarters, Xander was exhausted.

"Can I lie down for a minute? I feel like I've been run over by a bus. If you're going to finish punishing me right now, I could just sleep through it. Ok?"

Spike turned to Timmins. "Run a hot bath. He's freezing."

Timmins nodded and went into the bathroom. Spike turned back to Xander. "There's going to have to be a punishment, but tomorrow is soon enough. I want you awake and aware for it. Not cruising through it half conscious. And I'm not takin' it easy on ya either."

Xander just nodded miserably and sat down on the end of the bed. "I wish I hadn't been such a shit. I wish Buffy would let up. Um... she keeps apologizing and so does Tara. What's up with that? And I haven't even seen Willow since that day at court. And I'm in so much trouble with you that it's not even funny. But you can't belt me, you just can't I won't put up with it. Anything else, I don't care. Whip me even but not a belt, please? I wish I could do it all over. Why didn't you come for me? I called and called. I apologized, I did. I swear. Really. Spike? Please don't be mad at me anymore. I don't like it. And not just because it stings. Please?"

Spike took a moment to unravel this prime example of Xander-babble. "Ok, pet, I'm not mad at ya anymore. But that doesn't mean I'll let you off. I just ... I'm not going to belt you, I promise. And I'll try to figure out something not too horribly painful. Come on." Spike hauled Xander to his feet and steered him in the general direction of the bathroom. "I think Timmins has the bath now."

Xander sighed. "I'm sorry I'm such a prick tease. I don't mean to be. I liked it with the finger thing. And a butt plug is ... interesting. Sort of. But I don't know. And I know you've been incredibly patient with me and I really appreciate it, but I ... well, I'm so not gay. I think. Only I really sort of ... I want . . . Only it's just ... um ... I feel all fuzzy headed and I'm so not making sense, but I want you to know that I'm not trying to be difficult about the sex thing. Only I don't know what to do and I don't want you to think I'm stupid and what did you do to me that I'm all babbly with the truth and stuff and I really want to shut up now." Xander clung to Spike as he eased him into the tub. Spike gave Timmins a speaking look and Timmins just handed Spike the soap and washcloth.

"He's going to be like that for a bit, I think. If you have any questions that you really want answered now's the time to ask. I wouldn't though. He ... he's a bit touchy about that sort of thing and might take it more amiss thanwe want. Excuse me. I'll just go and find him something to wear. If he's allowed?"

Spike nodded. "You do that. I'll deal with the babble fest." Spike turned back to Xander and sighed. "Dammit, Xander." He just shook his head and started squeezing warm water over Xander's shoulders. Xander sighed and leaned back against the side of the tub.

After a few minutes, Xander asked, "Ok. So, now what? I embarrassed you in front of Arnold and three of your lieutenants. I know I'm in deep shit, but how deep."

Spike thought. "Well, pretty deep, but everyone knows you're my favorite. And ..."

He was interrupted by a soft knock on the door. Spike called, "Come in." And Timmins entered.

"May I speak?" Spike nodded tiredly. "This is good news, in a way. Several minions have knocked, enquiring as to Xander's health. They all heard him ... asking for you. There's some discussion as to the possibility of Arnold greeting the sun. If I might?" Spike pinned Timmins with glowing eyes and Xander perked up a bit. "I would, personally, recommend that you not punish Xander too harshly. Everyone knows that he was goaded beyond what is reasonable. Mercy, on this occasion, would do more good, for all concerned, than harshness. Excuse me. I need to see to the arrangements for Xander's meal."

Timmins bowed himself out.

Spike settled back on his heels. "Well, I'll be ... um ... never mind. Hear that pet?"

Xander exhaled in a soft 'whoosh' and nodded. "Yeah. So I'm not off the hook but the hook's not so big? That's ... good. It's good, isn't it? Please tell me it's good."

"It's good. I can figure out something fairly easy, now that I know I'm not going to have a mutiny on my hands. I can't afford that just yet." Spike rubbed his face. The last mutiny he'd been involved in had turned out really badly. Most of the court had been wiped out and Angel had been furious. "Finish your bath yourself, yeah?" Xander took the sponge from Spike and started washing himself.

Xander scrubbed himself then settled back in the warm water, which was finally beginning to drive the chill out of his bones.

Spike settled in the bedroom on the small couch in one corner and put his feet up on a poof. He lit a cigarette and drew the smoke deep into his lungs. He was going to have to quit smoking around Xander. The second hand smoke wasn't good for him.

Finally Spike knew exactly what he was going to do. He had to show his displeasure with Xander and there where many ways to do that, many of which didn't involve any pain at all. And, to Xander's mind, not much humiliation either.

Tonight was court, he could get it over with quickly, before Xander had a chance to worry himself sick. Before Spike had a chance to work himself into too much of a lather. He wasn't best pleased with the world just now, which usually led to him doing damage to everything near. Not something he wanted Xander to see just now. He managed to keep from kicking the poof into the wall by a hair.

"Xander, come in here."

Xander stuck his head out of the bathroom. "Don't you mean 'out'? I'm not sure. I think it would be out. And, don't gag me, please. I know I'm babbling but I'm really nervous. Sorry."

Spike got up and walked to Xander. "Don't fret, pet. I decided what I'm gonna do." Xander sighed and hung his head. "See ... the thing is, I have to show that I'm displeased with you an' you're bein' punished ... In public. Everyone an' his dog knows about the other. An' I'm gonna have summat ta say ta some'un. See?"

Xander shrugged one shoulder a bit sullenly. "Not really, not with the explaining yet."

"Stop talkin' like Buffy, or I'll really gag ya. See, we've been havin' a lot of fun with the outfits. All fancy an' glittery chains. Everyone knows that all that stuff is a sign of favor. I spend a lot of time figuring out those outfits and havin' 'em made. So, you're comin' ta court ... um ... not naked like no clothing, but naked like Godiva. See?"

Xander was sure that the Godiva Spike was talking about didn't have much to do with chocolate but he really didn't have a clue, so he asked, "Godiva? I'm sure we're not talking chocolates here. Who's he?"

"She. Long story short, she protested a decision of her husband's by riding a horse 'naked of all ornament' through the city streets. Got changed to simply naked in later years. But she just took off all her jewelry and stuff. So you get the plainest outfit Timmins can find and ... not even sure we got plain chain anywhere."

Xander just stared at Spike for a moment then broke down. He wrapped his arms around himself and hunched his shoulders. He tried to stifle his sobs but didn't quite succeed.

Spike eased Xander into a hug, coaxing his arms to loosen, replacing Xander's arms with his own.

"Don't do that, pet. Tell me what's wrong, yeah? Ok? Look at me."

Xander sighed and wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands, scrubbing the dampness off on his thighs. "You ... you've been really good to me. Better than anyone has ever been. Gave me stuff, taught me stuff. Let me be myself. Got me a Sensei. And I can't do one thing right. I'm too stubborn and I'm dumb as a box a' rocks. I'm sorry I was bad. I'll be better, I swear. Just ... I can't be away from you. I didn't realize what it would feel like. Like ants crawling underneath my skin. And ... not ... I just kept feeling like I had to say I was sorry. It never faded, it never got worse, it was just there, scratching at me. Like nails on a chalk board, if you know what I mean. I ... sorry, I think I'm babbling again."

Spike cuddled Xander, rubbing his back and rocking him. "Here. Stop that. Ya got me doin' the 'baby dance' with a grown man. That's how much I think a' ya. Now. Dry your eyes. Go wash your face again. I'll have Timmins lay out your kit."

Xander went to do as Spike told him to while Spike explained to Timmins exactly what he wanted. Timmins sighed softly, "Well, that's a relief. I know exactly what you want. I'll have it ready in a few minutes. When do you want him to come in?"

"Late. But no fanfare, just lead him in. See?"

"Yes, sir. He'll never realize how ... punished he is. He doesn't equate removal of privileges with a punishment. He never had any privileges to lose at home. I'll have him ready in... half an hour after court convenes?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah, that's about right. Just bring him in the side door and up to my ... bloody hell ... throne." Spike made a rueful face. He was never going to get used to having a throne. It was ridiculous.

Timmins bowed slightly. "As you wish." He was glad this was almost over. Master Spike had been in a temper since this fiasco had started.

Timmins dug around in the closet until he found the oldest pair of jeans Xander owned. They were threadbareand nearly white with age. The hems were ragged and one knee was just a ladder of warp. He also found an old, ragged, stretched out t-shirt in an indeterminate shade of either gray or tan, it was so old no one could be sure. He laid that out on the bed for Xander, calling out to him to get dressed.

While Xander was getting dressed, Timmins hunted up a set of plain jail-house shackles. Universal belly chain, heavy duty, stainless steel ankle bands and a pair of Winchester handcuffs. They were so plain, the insult, the punishment would be obvious to all. Except Xander. Timmins nodded his head in satisfaction.

When Timmins came back in, Xander was standing in the middle of the room, head hanging. Timmins sighed. The boy looked beaten, not physically, but spiritually.

"Young Master Xander. It will be alright. If you are truly repentant, he will forgive you. He may be soulless, but he's not heartless. Come, let me get you ready."

Xander just held his arms out from his body to allow Timmins to put the belly chain on. Timmins dropped the leg irons on the floor and put the handcuffs on Xander, running the cuffs through the big ring on the belly chain. When he knelt to put the leg irons on, he realized that he hadn't gotten Xander any shoes. But then he realized that Xander didn't usually wear shoes. He shrugged. The floors weren't that cold.

"There." Timmins got up and took Xander by the arm. "Come, now. We better head for the court."

"No leash?" Xander nearly tripped, the chain between his ankles was shorter than he was used to.

"Um ... no. You're not worthy of being a pet just now. So, no leash. But don't worry. I doubt that Master Spike is mad enough to let anyone touch you."

Xander shuddered. That was one of his greatest fears, Spike letting someone else use him. "That's good. Really good. I don't think I could stand it if he handed me around."

Timmins stopped Xander, moved to face him and looked him in the eyes. "Master Spike will never hand you around. If he even tries it..." Timmins vamped out. "Well, he just better not." Timmins took Xander's arm again, helping him to walk.

Xander mumbled, "Well, hell, and when did you become scary vampire valet?"

"Always have been. I protect my charges. Careful, the floor slants just here."

Spike gave the complaining demon a filthy glare. He was already bored.All these people, demons, vampires and assorted idiots did was complain. That one took this one's, book, CD player, girl, blood, whatever. He was sick of it. He wondered if he could get away with disemboweling someone.

Evidently his expression had morphed from slightly bored to seriously annoyed, as the demon stammered to a halt. Spike grumbled, stood up and demanded, "Ok,who's got his stuff? If I don't get a truthful answer on the count of five, I'll find out for myself and whoever it is, is in deep shit. Literally. One ... two ..."

Spike didn't get any farther. A shifty eyed, ferret faced vampire stalked forward and shoved the property in question into the demon's hands, muttered, "Skank." and scurried into the crowed again. Spike snarled, then settled into his cushions again.

He didn't turn his head when he heard the door behind and beside him open. He just called the next case. Xander shuffled to his place and knelt. Spike ignored him.

Xander just knelt on the cold hard floor and kept his head bowed.

Spike heard several more complaints, keeping watch on Xander from the corner of his eye. He was a bit amused to see that most of the court was also keeping an eye on Xander. Xander was oblivious to all this. All he did was kneel at Spike's side, keep his head down and his mouth firmly shut. Spike missed his whispered, snarky comments. The boy had a wicked wit when he chose to use it.

The court endured another two hours of Spike's ill temper then one of the older vampires worked up the nerve to approach him about it.

"Please, Master Spike, forgive the boy. We're all tired of your ill temper. No one could possibly think you weak. But we are, and your temper is a sore trial to all of us. Please?" He tried to look pleading and only managed sour.

Spike looked around and all he saw were hopeful looks and woeful faces. "Fine. Good. Know your places, don't ya. Boy's got to know his too. Won't stand for defiance. Even from him."

Xander perked up anyway. He cast a hopeful look Spike's way. Spike motioned for him to stand in front of him. Xander moved from where he was to in front of Spike, he didn't bother to stand up, he just scuttled on his knees.

"Stand up, pet. Ya sorry?"

Xander nodded vigorously. "Yes, I'm really, really sorry. I ... um ... you ... well, please? I won't do it again. Really, I won't. Ok?" Xander stammered under Spike's piercing gaze.

"Ok, pet. You're forgiven. Timmins!" Timmins moved from his hiding place behind Spike.

"Yes, Master. What is your desire?"

"Take 'im back to quarters. Get him out of those disgutin' rags and dress 'im nice. Burn the others. Go."

Timmins took Xander by the arm and helped him off the dais and into the back hall. "There we are, young master. Let me get you out of those things." Xander held still as Timmins got him out of the chains and tossed them aside. "Let's go get you dressed in something a little nicer. Master's orders. Come on now."

Xander just followed Timmins to their quarters. He was stiff and his knees hurt. He had never realized how uncomfortable some of his baggier stuff was. Until now. He really hated the feeling of having his pants about ready to fall off his hip bones.

"Um ... I have a training session with Master Bruce on ... Friday? Do you think Spike will still let me?"

Timmins shrugged. "I'm not sure. Who knows? The temper master Spike is in just now? I wouldn't push it."

Xander sighed. "Well, the only real reason I asked is I ought to send a message to Master Bruce if I'm not going to make it. I'll ask Spike when he gets home. And ... don't just burn these, flush the ashes."

Xander yelped as cold hands grabbed his butt and pulled the baggy jeans up, effectively giving him a wedgie. "Hey! Cut that out, you'll damage the equipment. Oh. Um ... sorry."

Spike just laughed. " 'S ok, pet. Hate those baggy things. Ya look like some sort of white-bread wanna-be thug, or something. Race ya home." he took off, just fast enough that Xander had to jog to keep up.

"No more Mr. Cranky Vamp?" Xander trotted hard to stay level with Spike, holding his baggy pants up with one hand.

"No. Punishment is all over. Forgiven and forgotten. Sort of. If you have a session with Master Bruce on Friday. That's day after tomorrow. Should I cancel your music lesson?"

Xander thought about that as they got near the door. "Don't think so. As long as Giles keeps a civil tongue in his head, I'd like to keep them up."

"Ok, I'll have someone call him. I'm not calling him myself. It's all I can do, right now, not to chew him a new one."

"Well, I'd like to just eat around it and let it fall out. So ... I'll have Sylvia call him. How's that? And just like that I'm all forgiven and it's all done?"

Spike stopped Xander with a gentle hand. "I'm not your old man, Buffy, nor Red the guilt queen. You messed up, I punished ya, and it's over. Enough said. Ok? We don't need to talk it to death."

"Ok. Thanks. Um ..." Xander kicked his toe into the floor, peeked at Spike then looked back at his feet. "Kissandmakeup? Please?"

It took Spike a second to translate that. "Sure, pet. Like kissin' you." Spike pushed Xander against the wall and put one hand on either side of his head. Xander closed his eyes and waited. Spike didn't disappoint him. The kiss started out gentle. Xander replied a little tentatively but soon put all his heart into it. Spike replied to that passion with a heated passion of his own. They both wound up panting.

Xander whimpered. Spike snarled. He backed off, that pitiful little sound softened more than his heart.

"Still need more time? Sorry, pet, but I'm almost out of patience. Can't wait much longer. Only a vampire after all's said and sifted."

Xander managed to get his head out of his groin long enough to babble, "No! Stopping? Why? Want, I ... you... really kiss good. More kissage! Now! Kissing good. Stopping bad, very bad. Not good with the really bad badness."

Spike blinked. It took him a bit of time to translate Xander's full on SoCal babble. "You like it? What's with that little ... whimper? Why? Turns me right off, it does. Stop it."

"Whimper? What ... no whimper. Not whimpering. Me? No! No whimpering. What? When? No!"

"Ya do! I swear. If ya didn't do that little scared sound, I'd a bent ya over somethin' a long time ago. Ya sound like a stepped on kitten."

Xander blinked at Spike for a moment. "Oh, that! No, not scared, no way Jose. Not scared at all. Cordy used to laugh at me for making it. Called it my fuck me moan."

Spike looked as pole axedas he'd ever looked. "Oh! Well ..."

Xander grabbed his courage with both hands. He also grabbed Spike. "No talk. Kissage. Much kissage and then more ... much, much more. Now! More!"

Spike grabbed back. Xander made that little sound again but this time Spike was really listening. Xander was anything but frightened. Spike nearly combusted on the spot. It was a needy little noise, not a frightened one.

"Oh, man, pet. I need ya, yeah? Ya wanna?"

"I wanna. I'll ... I don't ... you won't laugh at me, will you?"

"Never. Or, if I do, it's joy. Laughin' with joy, ok?"

"Ok."

"Then, stop talkin', how can I kiss ya, if your lips are flappin'?"

"Lips stopped flappin' a while ago. You're the one babbling." Spike pulled back to give Xander a fulminating glare. "You are. I'm not. Silent as a nun. Why is a nun silent? Why would a nun be more silent that anyone else?"

Spike laughed and put his hand over Xander's mouth. "Because nun's used to take vows of silence. Like you should. Shut it." But he sounded amused so Xander just sighed and put his head on Spike's chest. "Better."

Spike managed to get them into the bedroom, stumbling through the sitting room, knocking over furniture. They tumbled onto the bed and bounced once. Spike pinned Xander down on the bed and literally ripped the worn out shirt off his back. "And those damn jeans. Never wear anythin' that baggy, ever." He grabbed the waist band and pulled, careful not to let the cloth dig into Xander's tender skin. "And ... there." He ripped down both legs and jerked the torn garment out from under Xander, tumbling him over. "Beautiful bum, pet."

Xander had to laugh. Spike's ministrations had landed him on his back, torso bent so that his knees were next to his ears. "Ya think?"

Spike didn't bother to answer. He just jumped Xander's bones. Xander whimpered again.

"Stop that. Puts me off."

"Can't. Feels so good. Kiss there."

"Where?"

Xander pointed to his lips. Spike nibbled at Xander's lower lip, nipped, kissed again, nibbled more. Xander did his best to reciprocate. Spike made a funny growling sound.

"Growling? You're growling at me? What'd I do wrong?"

"Started yappin' again." Spike shut Xander up by kissing him, with tongue. Xander sucked gently on the intruding member and nipped the very tip of it. Spike searched Xander's mouth like he was hiding something he desperately wanted. "Mmm, sweet."

Xander tangled tongues with Spike, sliding his into Spike's mouth. He realized that Spike was vamped so he pressed his tongue against one of his fangs. The few drops of blood made Spike suck Xander's tongue. Xander whimpered again.

Then Spike found the one thing that made Xander scream. His nipples were very sensitive. Very. Spike's gentle pinch sent him into ecstasy. "Like that, do ya?"

"Oh, yeah. More please. Please. Oh. Oh, please. More."

So Spike gave Xander more. He pinched, licked and nibbled until Xander was babbling incoherently. Spike smiled against his boy's chest. "Like that, do ya?"

Xander wondered dimly, what he'd been so afraid of. If Spike hurt him, it would be an accident. Spike wouldn't hurt him, this way, on purpose. He obeyed Spike when he told him to roll over onto his belly.

"Don't tense up."

"Ok. What are you going to do?"

"Gonna open ya up, so I don't hurt ya. Relax."

Xander did his best to relax and found that, due to regularly wearing a plug, Spike's well-lubricated finger was not at all uncomfortable. Then it was mind blowing. Spike had stroked that something inside him. Timmins had always told him that there was more to male-on-male sex than just penetration.

"Oh! Oh, yeah! Again, do that again."

Spike obliged. He eased his finger in and out of Xander, rubbing over his sweet spot until Xander relaxed completely. He was so relaxed that he nearly fell on his face. Spike got him rolled back over on his back.

"There, pet. Pull your legs up to your chest. You'll like this. If it hurts any at all, tell me."

Xander lay back and let himself be touched. He was liking this a lot. Spike was constantly kissing him, pinching his nipples, stroking his erection, but the thing he liked the best was when Spike stroked that small place right behind his balls. When Spike did that and wriggled his fingers at the same time, all Xander could do was scream. And he seemed to be doing that a lot.

"Dammit, Spike. Do something. This is driving me insane."

"Er. Insaner. Like it?"

"Yeahyeahyeah. And oh, hell yeah. More. Do something else. Why was I so afraid of this? Mind telling me? But later. Much later. After you've done the dirty deed. Not that it's dirty exactly only that's what ... someone called it. Not a bad someone, I just can't remember who. Especially with your ... fingers there."

"More than my fingers is going up there. And I want to make sure that you like it. Ok?"

"Mmmm. Ok. Very ok. Big with the ok. Soon."

"Soon, pet."

Spike dug the tube of lubeout from under the pillow, slicked his fingers again and slid three fingers into Xander. Xander nearly threw Spike off the bed. "Oh, holy Hanna. Yeah, it feels incredible, better than last time. Burns a bit. But I like it. More. Something bigger."

"In a mo', pet. Then I'll give ya something bigger. My cock. You'll like it."

"Like it. Love it. Want, now. Now!"

"Demanding little shit, ain't ya?"

"And talky. Cordy was always telling me to shut up."

Spike snorted indignantly. "Like I care. Talk all ya want. I know how ta shut ya up, if I need."

Xander squirmed and wriggled under the assault of Spike's roving hand and lips. The other hand was busy opening Xander, helping him relax enough to accept Spike without pain or damage.

When he was sure that Xander was really ready, Spike slicked himself and eased into Xander. Face-to-face so that Xander saw Spike. Somehow Spike felt that was important. Xander moaned and made that little whimpering sound. This time it had the opposite effect to the past. Spike got harder.

He moved in and out of Xander, easily, slowly, giving Xander plenty of time to feel, stretch and react. Spike slicked his hand and grasped Xander's erection. "Like it, pet?"

Xander babbled, Spike moved in and out of his warm, wet body and stroked his cock. Xander came with a scream like a steam engine. The convulsions from his orgasm caused his inner muscles to clench and release, bringing Spike to climax almost immediately. Spike roared his pleasure.

Xander let his legs drop and Spike collapsed across his broad chest. "Brilliant!"

Xander snickered wearily. "You sound so English when you say stuff like that. And your accent is different."

"Sleep now."

"Good idea."

They both fell asleep almost at once, never noticing Timmins setting a tub of baby wipes on the bedside table.

Spike woke up soon after, vampire recovery rates being what they are, and used the wipes to clean them both up. He watched Xander sleep for a long while, most of the night, in fact, then went to take a shower.

While the shower was running, Spike allowed himself a soft whoop of satisfaction. This was going to work. His boy had enjoyed what they'd done. He was sure of that. Now all he had to do was keep him from freaking out.

Spike was startled to feel warm hands grasp his torso. He ruthlessly controlled the urge to strike out. It had to be Xander.

"Mmm. Warm. Vampires aren't supposed to be warm."

"Takin' a hot shower, ain't I, pet?"

"Nice. Pretty vampire. Mine."

"Yeah, yours, an' you're mine."

"Ok. Deal. But ... um ... Timmins said you were supposed to give me ... something?"

"Later. Wash now. Gift later. Promise."

So they showered. Xander washed Spike's back and Spike washed Xander's. They played like kids and made a mess of the bathroom. Then they trashed the closet, looking for something for Xander to wear. Xander wanted something sexy but not trashy. Spike was all for full on trashy-goth-whore. Xander refused and they spent half an hour alternately arguing like furies and snogging like sex-starved teenagers. Which Spike wasn't but acknowledged that Xander was.

They finally settled on a pair of dark-brown leather pants, bare feet, and a fitted but not skin tight, silk t-shirt in chocolate brown that matched Xander's eyes.

Xander looked at himself in the mirror and ran a hand through his hair. "Needs cutting. It's getting way too long. You have a hair fetish, or something?"

Spike ran his fingers through Xander's hair. "Yeah, I do. I love running my fingers through your hair. It's so soft and silky. Don't cut it. If I find ya with a pair of scissors, I'll swat ya."

"Ok. But I need to do something with it. It gets into my eyes. At least let me cut the bangs enough to keep them under some kind of control."

Spike called Timmins, who stuck his head into the room, grinning. "Pillock. Ya listened in, didn't ya?"

Timmins was all innocence. "Me? No, master. It's just that you're really loud. Most of the residence heard something. Can I help you?"

Spike roared with laughter at the chagrined expression on Xander's face. "You can. Bring me a pair of scissors. Boy wants a hair cut. I'm not very good, but I'm better than most of the hair butchers we've got."

Timmins smiled. "Well, as that is the case. I offer my services. I'm considered a fair hand at hair cutting."

Timmins went to gather his things. When he came back, he cut Xander's hair under Spike's sharp eye.

When he was done, he'd cut Xander's bangs into a neat casual length which emphasized its thickness and got it out of his eyes. He'd also trimmed the back to neaten up the length. He pulled the back into a tail at the nape of Xander's neck and put an elastic around it. "There. Not bad, if I do say so myself."

Xander examined the results in the mirror, never noticing the odd fact that there was a pair of scissors floating near his ear, and a Zippo lighter over his shoulder.

"Thanks, Timmins. It looks really good."

Spike nodded, unseen in the mirror, but his voice made Xander flinch slightly. "Yeah, looks good ... sorry, pet." Xander shrugged. "Master Bruce waiting on ya?"

Xander checked his watch. "I need to be there in twenty minutes."

"What are ya workin' on?"

Xander accepted the gi Timmins offered him. Tucking it under his arm, he replied, "Gladius work. Sensei said I'm getting really good so he's going to start me on real combats."

"You sure, pet?"

"No, but he is."

Spike followed Xander to the dojo to watch. He wondered if Xander would be able to take his music lesson later. Master Bruce didn't cut him any slack. Xander didn't seem to mind. He was always relaxed after a lesson.

Spike stopped to talk to the martial arts master. "Why'd ya cut into his schedule? Wanna know if he's hurt or summat."

Bruce just watched Xander as he ran through his warm up. "Don't want him to get over trained. That's not good with a human. He's good, and he'll get better and better. If we don't let him get stale. That's one reason I'm adding gladius now. He's been learning the basics and he's got them down, so now, we move on. I'm going to start teaching him with edged weapons now. He'll get some cuts unless you tell me not. But I don't recommend that, it'll undermine his confidence. What do you want to do?"

"Have a healer on hand. Wait until I call one."

Bruce glanced at a door on the opposite side of the room. "I believe he's here now."

Spike looked in the same direction as Master Bruce. The man hovering in the door was a true healer, small, slight and childlike. But his power was real and evident. He wasn't an herb healer, but a power healer. He could call on the powers of the earth to heal. Spike walked across the room to greet him.

Xander finished his warmup and picked up a towel. He saw Spike crossing the room and followed him.

"Hello. Who are you?"

The healer gave Xander a startled look. "You're allowed to speak?"

Xander looked from the healer to Spike then back. "Well, maybe not?"

Spike snorted. " 'E's not a pet." Spike cleared his throat then continued. "He's a thrall. He's my body guard and translator. He's working on a new form and I don't what him incapacitated from injuries. See?"

The healer, whose name Xander would never know, just nodded. He set his small case on a bench and sat down next to it. "I'll just wait here until I'm needed."

Xander gave him a long look then just went to the weapons safe to get a sword. Spike stopped him gently.

"I need to get a sword, that gladius I was using isn't safe. Master Bruce said to put it up for sentiment."

Spike draped an arm over Xander's shoulders. "Know that. Come 'ere."

Xander obediently followed the pull, saying, "You said the word. Brain gone."

"What word?" Spike looked at Xander like he'd lost his mind.

"The c-word. Come. Like that word. And I'm babbling again. You make me all babbley."

Spike rubbed Xander's shoulder. "Glad, pet. Ease off, though. Got ya sommat. See?"

Spike gave Xander the long leather-covered box he'd had hidden under a bench. Master Bruce grinned slightly. He'd already seen the sword.

Xander glanced at Spike then grinned like a kid in a candy store. "For me? Really?" Spike just nodded, sad that Xander could be so excited over something so small. It was just a sword. A very good sword, but just a sword.

Xander opened the box and gazed at the sword. It was magnificent. The grip was solid oak, wrapped with bronze wire then covered with the belly skin of a shark. The pommel was a solid ball of bronze, weighted to exactly balance the blade. And what a blade it was. His training had included a great deal of knowledge of blades and steel. He could tell that this blade was real Damascus steel. The blade was perfect in every way. Perfectly shaped, perfectly tempered, perfectly sharpened

"Spike! Thank you so much. This is beautiful. It's great. Just what I wanted. No one knows how to pick a sword like you do." Xander put down the sword to hug Spike. Spike hugged him back, cursing Xander's parents, and friends, silently. The only reason he was so deeply grateful for any present was he'd never gotten many, or perhaps any, before.

"Glad you like it. Best get on with it. Master Bruce is waiting."

Xander turned to apologize to the master but he just smiled a bit and said, "Take pleasure in your present. It's a very good sword. Take a moment."

So Xander did, examining his sword and taking happy practice swings. Master Bruce finally called him to order.

Xander listened while Master Bruce gave him his instructions. Spike listened too. The Master told Xander to run through his usual exercises, using the sharp sword instead of the wooden practice one he usually used. Then he was to work on the pells. Working on the pells was what had worn out his cheap first sword.

Spike, Bruce and the healer watched Xander as he started his deadly dance of steel and muscle. He worked his way through the exercises easily and went to the pells the second he was done. The sound of steal striking wood filled the room. Xander performed the six standard attacks then started again. He continued to practice until Master Bruce called a halt, nearly an hour after Xander started.

"Enough! Good, good. Excellent job. I'm very pleased." Xander grinned, took the bottle of water from the minion and allowed him to drape a towel around his shoulders.

The healer stood, bowed to Spike, asked if he was needed anymore, and when Spike said 'no' departed.

Spike settled on a bench with Xander beside him. Master Bruce settled on a stool and they started dissecting the training session. Between them, Master Bruce and Spike picked every motion apart while Xander asked questions.

Finally Spike stood up. "Well, pet. If you're to have your guitar lesson ya better get something to eat and then rest a bit."

Xander shrugged. "You're right." He turned to Master Bruce. He bowed, saying, "Thank you for your kind attention." in perfect Mandarin. Master Bruce just bowed back. Spike blinked in stifled amazement. Who said the boy wasn't smart? Whoever it was, Spike wanted a piece of him, right about the jugular.

Xander was glad he'd taken the time to eat and get in a short nap. He had gotten several requests for translations. And Sylvia was on 'vacation', whatever that meant. He shuffled the requests into three piles. What he called, 'No', 'Oh, hell no', and 'have to do it'. There was also a tiny pile of 'do right now'.

It wouldn't take him very long to take care of the first two piles, all he did was shove them back into the mailers they'd come in and put them on a secretary's desk to be returned, one pile with a polite letter saying he didn't find the work 'rewarding'. The second pile got a nastier one, with check boxes, telling the sender why he wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot Snarfler demon. Anything that came from a 'second offender' also got the threat to burn any further documents.

He was just finishing up when Giles knocked on the door frame.

"Excuse me. If you're busy, I can sit in the waiting area, if you'll show me where it is."

Xander shook his head. "There isn't one. Just come in and start setting up. I'll be done in a sec. I just have to send this stuff back to the senders. My secretary is on vacation so I have to get it ready for one of the other ... er ... girls to deal with."

Giles managed to keep his shock off his face. He wasn't about to insult Xander again. Especially after Spike had reamed his ass. He wasn't about to get on the wrong side of the Master of the Hellmouth. Even if it was just Spike. He shuddered suddenly, why had he gotten to thinking of Spike as 'just'. And when?

Xander's voice dragged him out of his thoughts with a start. "Hey, you alright? You look a bit off."

"No. I mean, I'm fine. Just had a ... moment, you might say. Unpleasant thoughts." Giles settled into the chair he'd set out for himself. "Did you practice?"

Xander pulled up his own chair. "Yes, I practiced. I think I managed to do fairly well. I missed a day. Got a bit tied up. But I don't think it hurt me any."

Giles plucked a string, checking the tuning. "Show me.

Xander started the first scale, completing the run without an error. Giles nodded. "Very good. Go on." Xander worked his way through all the scales he'd been assigned.

"Excellent. You've really been practicing. Do you have any of it memorized?"

Xander thought. "Sort of. You didn't say I should or I would have made a real effort."

"I purposely didn't tell you to. I want you to just play as much as you remember. Start at the first one and work your way through until you really don't remember. Don't worry about an error or two."

Xander managed to get about two thirds of the way through the exercises before he had to stop. Giles was pleased and let Xander know. He had to rub his face with one hand to hide it as Xander glowed with pride at the rather luke warm praise. He was finally realizing how much he'd neglected someone who had depended on him. Much more that he'd thought.

He was beginning to chew the bitter root of knowledge in earnest, and he didn't like the taste. He turned his attention back to the lesson.

"Fine, you've done very well. I want you to complete memorizing the scales. Also, work on the next two pages of scales. I'll run through them for you, so you can hear them. Then we'll work on them together, to get the fingering, for the rest of the hour."

Xander learned quite quickly and even extrapolated from the basic scale notation in order to read another octave on either side of middle C. Xander had taught himself to recognize three octaves from seeing one and a half.

Giles ended the lesson with the admonition not to practice so much that he blistered his fingers. Xander nodded but held out his hand. "Don't think I'll be in too much danger of that."

Giles looked at the calloused tips of Xander's fingers. Only two things would give him such calluses, or three. Wood working, martial arts, and playing a stringed instrument. He touched the slick, hard skin. "No, I don't think you will. See you next week?"

Xander nodded, bending away to put his instrument in its case. Giles busied himself doing the same thing. When Xander straightened up he gave Giles a different smile than Giles had ever seen. This one wasn't goofy, self-effacing or shy. It was gently amused. It set well on Xander's face.

"Friends? Giles, I'd really like to just be friends. No Mr. Giles, the Watcher and Idiot-boy Harris. Just you and me, and some music. I'd really like that. Ok?"

Giles took his glasses off and polished them on the hem of his t-shirt. "I'd like that too, Xander. Just you, me, guitars and good music." He jammed his glasses back on his face and took the hand Xander offered.


	21. Chapter 21

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter:21

Word count: 6,457

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, spanking, mild bondage, blood, gore, bad language, and any other thing I can come up with.

Parings: S/X

Summary: Willow casts a friendship spell on Xander. Her magic goes awry, as usual. Neither Spike nor Xander gets what she expects.

Betaed by: Skippyscatt

Xander looked at the case of the Clavichord. Spike was going to love it. He'd seen it, of course, he'd actually bought it for Xander along with the writing box in which Xander now kept parchment, pens, pencils and other equipment he needed for translations. He didn't know exactly why but he liked it. Now Xander was polishing the newly repaired instrument, he didn't know how to tune it but he knew someone who did. The demon had promised to come this afternoon and see to the job. Xander wanted to get it set up in the music room before his next lesson. He was hoping that Spike would consent to play a duet with him. Giles would go spastic.

He decided another coat of beeswax polish was redundant and put his things away. He smiled happily. The station was a haven to him. He had plenty of room to work on his woodwork. He also had a space where he could just sit in the sun and enjoy his orchids and violets. He sighed. Spike was very kind to him. It made him wonder exactly what Spike wanted, besides his body that was. He kept claiming ulterior motives. It worried him a bit but he decided not to worry over much. He couldn't do much about it so worrying seemed stupid.

Xander called in the two demons who were what Spike called dumb muscle. He instructed them in how to carry the clavichord and told them there'd better not be so much as a ding on it. They nodded respectfully and carefully carried the instrument out the door. Xander thought about following them then decided to go walk in his garden for a while. He hadn't had time for several days and missed it.

As he headed for the gardens, he was careful to stay on the approved route. He didn't want to get into trouble for entering the areas that Spike had declared off bounds. It wasn't worth the trouble and he didn't need another punishment for disobeying. Besides, he didn't want Spike mad at him for such a stupid reason.

He passed slowly through the gateway herb garden. The copy of his grandmothers that was the first bit of garden he'd had. He strolled on past the potted roses and box woods. He weeded a bit and ran his fingers into the dirt in one of the small plots if the formal English garden. He rambled on into the oriental garden and stopped again to feed the koi. They rose to the surface and gapped at him. He smiled and tossed more food. The fish obediently scrambled for the bits, making the surface roil.

Xander wound up in the small sitting area in his orchardarium. He smiled around and then realized that the orchardarium in the station was a half size copy of this one. This one was growing under artificial lights. The one in the station was situated under a sky light.

"Tea?"

Xander nearly jumped out of his skin. "Gah! Geeze, wear a bell, why dontcha?Yes, I'd like tea."

The vampire gazed at him in confusion for a moment then put the tray on the table, excused himself and went in search of a bell.

Xander settled back with his tea. He wondered when he'd managed to learn to like the stuff.

After sitting for about an hour, Xander continued his walk through the gardens. He enjoyed the quiet time but a glance at his watch made him hurry his steps. He still had a translation to complete.

Spike stuck his head into the door of Xander's office and announced that Sylvia wasn't at her desk. Xander looked up from the scroll and shrugged. "I think she went down to the stables to get someone to eat. I told her to take the rest of the day off. I'm working on this translation and I won't need her."

"Ok. I'm going to be in my office with my secretary. If you need any thing just call her. And ... what translation?"

Xander handed a copy of the original scroll he was working onto Spike. "It's a part of one of the Dead Sea scrolls. Lesser interest, but in very good condition. It's got a preservation spell on it so I don't have to worry about handling it. It's also not part of the Bible, it's in ancient cuneiform so it's part of something else. That's what the owner wants to find out. Which means the first thing he needs is a translation."

"Xander? You mean to say that some big wig collector sent you a scroll from the private Dead Sea collection?"

Xander glanced up from the note he was making. "Yeah. So?"

Spike started to say something then muttered, "Never mind. I'll just be over here, in my office."

"Ok. See you in a bit. Soon as I'm done with this part." Xander turned back to his scroll again.

The ancient symbolic language posed no problems for Xander and he was soon done with the translation. His head ached but it always ached after prolonged reading. At least the symbols didn't dance in front of his eyes. He eyed his messy notes and decided to wait until tomorrow to transcribe them into something he was willing to send out. Tucking all his notes into a folder he left it on his desk and went to see if the clavichord was set up properly. He had to sneak by Spike's office to keep him from seeing.

Spike noticed Xander sneaking by his office door but didn't say anything. Xander knew better than to do anything Spike wouldn't approve of.

Xander looked at the Clavichord. It looked beautiful, its inlay case shone in the light like a wooden jewel.

"Is it tuned? I want it tuned. Spike will want to play it and I want it right."

The demon who'd tuned it the last time smiled. Xander's efforts had turned an instrument in good shape into one in perfect shape. "Yes, it's tuned properly. I'm sure Master Spike will be pleased."

"Good, good. I want to surprise him with it. He doesn't even know there's a music room. I hope he likes the music. I ordered some sheet music written especially for the clavichord and guitar. I want to play duets with him. You think ... never mind, I'm babbling. Go, send me a bill."

The demon bowed, smiled at a nervously jittering Xander and left. He found it amusing that such a large, strong human would be so nervous. Then he considered why Xander was nervous and changed his mind.

Xander wondered how he was going to get Spike to come to the room. Then he grinned. The straightforward approach seemed a good idea.

"Spike! I need you. Come here." Spike showed up almost at once.

"What is it, pet? What do you need?"

Xander put his arms around Spike. "You, I need you. Close your eyes."

Spike sputtered a bit but when Xander insisted he closed his eyes and allowed Xander to put his hands over them. Xander's heart beat sped up, making Spike wonder what was going on.

"Easy, pet, whatever it is, I'll kill it for you."

"I'll kill my own prey, thank you. Shut it. It's a surprise."

Spike relaxed then and set himself to enjoy his surprise. No matter what it was.

"You can look now." Xander took his hands away from Spikes eyes.

"Bloody hell, pet. Beautiful. Music?"

"I ordered some, I'm not sure if it's good or not. But I got it. So, do you like it. I thought it would go better in a music room than in the living room. Or your office. I took it and polished it up good. And made sure the legs were right. I made myself a good chair and another for Giles. The music is in one of those upright chests with all the drawers. I didn't make that, I bought it. So do you like it."

Spike put his hand firmly over Xander's mouth. "I love it. It's beautiful, I said so didn't I? Now. Let me try it out. Beautiful room by the way."

Spike settled at the keyboard and ran his fingers over it creating a rippling arpeggio. He played a scale to check the tuning, then started to play. Xander didn't recognize most of the pieces Spike played but they were wonderful to him. He settled into one of the over stuffed chairs he'd supplied the room with, content to just listen.

Spike played for over thirty minutes. Xander listened quietly.

When Spike got through, he turned around and smiled at Xander. "Thank you, pet. It's wonderful. You said something about playing duets? That's nice. Giles will have a cow."

"Good, we need the milk." Xander smirked at Spike who laughed heartily.

Spike closed the instrument carefully and walked toward Xander.

"Is that translation done?"

"Not quite. I've gotten all the translation done, but my notes are half in shorthand and the rest in scribbles. I have to transcribe them into something half way legible. I usually have Sylvia do it but she's out. I can't do it because my writing is ... bad is an understatement."

Spike snorted, he'd seen Xander's writing, at itsbest it was bad. Not terrible, but just the sort of cursive that the American school system turned out on a general basis. It wasn't nice enough for a magical translation.

"Look, pet. I can teach you to write nicely. It'll take some work but you can do it."

"That'd be nice. I always wanted nice hand writing. Sylvia has really nice writing, that's why I have her do the finial transcripts. I'd rather do them myself but, ... I get the e's and b's and d's all mixed up. Don't know why. But it got me plenty of beatings when Pop got letters from the teacher."

Spike made a face at that. Disgust was the main component but fury and sorrow were there too. "Don't worry. I'll help you. You just need a place where you can concentrate. Don't know how anyone can be expected to study in a kitchen with drunks fighting over head."

Xander just shrugged. "Well, maybe that's it. I'm going out. Bud and I are going to the drive in. He's never been and it's Terminator. You're welcome to come too, if you like."

Spike shrugged. "I'm disappointed, pet,but I got a meeting with the Speaker of some demon clan or other. They need my permission to cross the domain. They'll get it, of course, but it's all politics. You go on. I'll see you when you get back."

Xander sort of leaned over Spike who gave him an inquiring look. Xander tipped his head one way, then the other. Spike finally figured out that Xander was trying to figure out how to kiss him without bumping noses. He obligingly tipped his head to give Xander a better angle. The kiss left them both a bit breathless.

Xander smirked at Spike.

"What?"

"Made ya breathe. Go me."

Xander made it to the door before Spike could think up a rejoinder. The door clicked shut on his indignant, "Oy!"

Xander met Bud at the truck, which an unknown vampire minion brought to Xander without question.

Bud looked Xander over. "You carrying?"

Xander just shrugged. "Yeah. Short sword, big knife and a dart. We're just going to the movies. But I've got my tachi behind the seat."

Bud grinned. "Well, ok, then. Let's go."

So Xander climbed into the driver's seat and Bud took shotgun. It didn't take long for them to get to the drive-in.

"So, we just drive into the theater and sit in the truck? That's ... different. I've been to theaters before, of course, but never a drive-in. This is going to be fun."

Xander nodded happily. "Its' really nice because you don't disturb other people, so you can say anything you want. And you don't have to pay the outrageous prices at the snack bar. I've got candy, and sodas, and chips. I don't do popcorn, it's not good without the butter, but it's way too messy to hide. So ..." he turned to the ticket booth and told the girl. "Two please." She told him how much and handed over the torn stubs. "Thank you."

Bud had been careful to stay out of the ticket girls sight, so when they got parked, Xander asked him what was up.

"Don't recognize the kind of demon she is. I'm not sure I like this."

"Don't sweat it. All kinds of demons hang around the Hellmouth. You know that. Why would she be working if she's a bad guy?"

Bud didn't look convinced but he shrugged, "I don't know. Just makes me nervous. Kinda keep an eye out."

Xander nodded. "I will. It'll be dark soon. The movie will start then."

Bud gazed around at the drive-in. He'd never seen anything like it, but he was glad to see that there was no way for anyone to get to them without them seeing.

"Bud? Can you get to my sword and put it on the back of the seat without waving it around?"

Bud looked over the back of the seat. "Yeah, let me ... ok, got it. Just set it on the back of the seat?"

"Yeah, and push the head rest down on it. That'll keep it where I can get to it."

Bud got the sword situated on the back of the seat to Xander's satisfaction and then announced. "Pins and needles! That thing has to be ... five feet long. How much is blade?"

"It's a two handed, battle sword. The only Japanese sword bigger is a zanbato. Or horse killing sword. It's huge. This one only has about a 48" blade." Xander settled back in his seat. "Look! The movie is starting."

Bud eased back in his seat to watch the movie. He found himself enthralled by it and a bit startled when it ended.

"Well, what do you think?"

Bud nodded, silhouetted against the light from the snack bar. "I like it. It was great. We could talk and eat and ... everything."

"You just like it that you can fart and no one smells it. Except me. Man, what crawled up your ass and died."

Bud grinned at Xander, his teeth startlingly white in the gloom. "Mom's stew. Sorry."

Xander turned the key, started the engine and turned to smile at Bud. "Open a window. You're getting to be toxic." They both laughed. Bud opened his window.

Xander drove down the aisle and headed for the exit. Bud worried about the late hour. It was just late enough that hungry types were beginning to stir, but the really vicious ones were still just waking up.

Suddenly Bud saw a Mogroth demon in the shadows. "Back up! Back up!"

Xander saw it too but; "I can't! They've got a no entry strip. I'll just wind up with flat tires."

Xander jerked his steering wheel to the left to go around the demon then back to the right. He managed to stay on the gravel drive, but just barely. The car behind him slammed on the brakes and shuddered into reverse. The no entry strip, which was a strip of metal spikes set at an angle into the drive, flattened all four tires and the car slewed sideways on its rims. The occupants bailed and ran, the demon looked at them with interest, drooling slightly. Xander gave up, snarled, "Spike is gonna be so pissed," and grabbed his sword.

Bud sighed and followed him out of the truck. Xander unsheathed his sword and settled into a defensive stance. He waited for the demon to get close.

"Stop! I am Xander, thrall of William the Bloody, Master of this Hellmouth. If you do not attack, I will not. Do you understand me?"

The demon grumbled, flailed its tentacles around and stepped back a step. Xander started to relax. The demon produced another pair of them from somewhere in its back. Xander shook his head. "Oh, no! You did not just double up on me. Fucker."

The demon tried to grab Xander and got its tentacle cut off for its trouble. Bud produced a huge knife from somewhere and taunted the demon until it reached toward him with another tentacle. The limbs didn't seem to have any nerves because the creature only blinked when Xander cut off that tentacle too.

"Does it even notice? It's not getting hurt. Damn!" Xander danced out of the reach of the remaining two tentacles. Bud poked the demon in the back and thenran. Xander cut across the bulge in its back where the tentacles were attached. This time it screeched either in pain or fury, or perhaps both.

"Xander! What the hell do you think you're doing? Run!" Buffy jumped into the fray with both feet, literally. Xander shoved his sword back into the scabbard and tossed it into the back of his truck. Bud dove into the door head first and scrambled across the seat into the passenger side.

"You sure? Buffy, you sure?" Xander wasn't about to abandon Buffy no matter what she said. Unless he was absolutely sure she had things under control. It was a compromise between what he wanted and what Spike would allow.

"I'm sure. You get going, or I'll tell. Shoo." Buffy dove into combat with her usual zeal, blood and ... stuff flew in all directions. The demon gave one strange cry and collapsed into a heap. Xander jumped into his truck and restarted the engine. He accelerated away, keeping an eye in the rearview mirror. Buffy jumped up and took off into the nearby bushes at a dead run. Xander fought off the need to follow her. That wasn't his job anymore.

Instead, he drove quickly toward the garage entrance. It wasn't that far away.

"Um ... Xander, I don't want to be a buzz kill, but why didn't you back up when I told you to? Master Spike will want to know. And I'll be telling him everything. I like my tongue in my mouth, thank you."

Xander concentrated on traffic and didn't turn his head when he replied, "That spike strip is set so that you can only drive over it one way ... out. You try to drive in, or back up, and it'll puncture all your tires. And we ... I had to keep it from getting to the people still in the drive-in. You notice that, the second Buffy showed up, I took off. She said to, and I ... I'm not a Scoobie anymore. I've got ... other things to do. Important things, I think. More important than getting my head squashed by the demon du jour. And you don't have to tell Spike, I will. I know you've got to report too, but, could you just write it up?"

Bud thought about it for a moment then decided, "Sure. If master Spike wants more than that he'll call me. But you tell him tonight. Ok?"

Xander nodded without taking his eyes off the road. "Yes, I don't want a spanking or worse for not coming clean. And tonight was so much fun. I'm sick of this damn Hellmouth shit. I can't even go to the drive-in in peace. Fuck!" Xander slammed his hand down on the steering wheel. Bud wisely kept his mouth shut. Xander's little temper tantrum was understandable. Bud was getting sick of the Hellmouth too. He was seriously thinking it was time for him to go back to his people. This much excitement made his teeth hurt.

Xander took a deep breath and knocked on the bedroom door. He knew that it was his room too, but somehow it seemed appropriate.

"Come in." Spike looked up from his easy chair, took off his glasses and put them and his book on the nearby table. "Pet, what is it? You alright? I'll gut whoever put that look on your face."

Spike made it across the room to Xander in one nearly inevitable bound. Xander just put his arms around Spike and sighed. "I really, truly hate this Hellmouth. I can't even go to the movies with a buddy without something trying to eat me."

Spike quickly checked Xander for any injuries, finding none, he summoned Timmins, ordered hot chocolate and pulled Xander toward the bed. Timmins took one look at Xander's face and got out the 'big guns'

Spike stripped Xander out of his, amazingly, unspotted jeans and t-shirt. "Hop into the bed, pet. We'll get comfy and you can tell me all about it."

Xander did as he was told, then sat right back up. "Shit! My sword! I forgot to clean it. It'll stick in the sheath if I don't do something about it right now. I sheathed it all ... gunky."

"Gunky? Pet?"

"Well, it had demon ... stuff on it. Gunk. What ever Mogroth demons bleed."

Spike had a fit. "A Mogroth demon. What the bloody hell is a Mogroth demon doing in Sunnyhell. Fuck. Now I'll have to go out and kill it."

"Don't bother. It's dead. I cut off two of its bits and then Buffy showed up. She told me to git so I did. But still ... I'm sick of it. I would just like to have one time I go out that I don't wind up killing some oogity-boogity, or having it try to kill me. Or just eat me. The only demon I want eating me is you."

Spike laughed at that but sobered when he realized that Xander was really upset. "Sorry, pet. Look, you're not getting out of this bed again tonight. Where's Bud by the way?"

"He's writing up a report. I told him it would be ok if he didn't come talk to you tonight. But I've got to clean my sword."

"No, you don't. Pet, why do you think we have minions? I know Master Bruce told you to clean your own, but I'm High Master and I say, 'not tonight.' Now settle down. I'll tell Timmins to have someone clean it. Hush."

Xander started to protest but Spike put one finger firmly on his lips and said, 'hush' again. Xander hushed.

Timmins efficiently told a minion to take Xander's sword to Master Bruce, explain to him what had happened and ask him to clean the sword. The minion shrugged, asked what had happened and listened goggle eyed as Timmins told him. How Timmins knew what had happened already no one knew, or had the nerve to ask. The minion went to get the sword and take it to Master Bruce.

Timmins finished making the hot chocolate. He'd made it with shaved Ghirardellichocolate bar, cream and cinnamon. He'd left a vanilla bean in the cream while it heated, just to a simmer, never a boil. Just before he took the cups into the room, he dropped homemade marshmallows into them.

"Here you are, hot chocolate. Drink up." Timmins handed one cup to Xander and the other to Spike. "I took care of your sword, Master Xander. Don't worry about it. Just rest." Timmins pulled the door firmly shut behind him and stationed a minion on the door with instructions not to let anyone in. Excepting, him, on pain of skinning alive. The minion nodded vigorously. Timmins went back to the kitchen to brew tea and think.

Spike put his chocolate on the bedside table and turned to Xander. "Ok, pet. More info. What exactly happened."

So Xander told Spike the whole story, ending, "and I was having such a good night. Just me and Bud, a good movie and enough junk food to stagger a mule. And that damn Mogroth had to show up. I can't get away from them. Any of them. I'm sick and tired of it. My life is one demon disaster after another."

Spike rubbed Xander's shoulder, the man had somehow wound up curled against his side. "I'm so sorry, pet. I don't understand it either. I know you've really had a bad time with all that mess. I'll put out the word . . . again. As to the Mogroth, they're barely sentient. I doubt it had anything to do with you being a Scoobie, or mine either. Just sleep. It'll get better." He realized that Xander was nearly asleep. "I hope."

Spike settled at the keyboard and played scales with Xander. Giles had advised it to get Xander used to playing with someone. They worked for about an hour then Xander blew on his stinging fingertips and announced that he was beginning to get blisters. Spike shut the instrument while Xander put his guitar up.

"That was good. You're doing really well. Why don't we go out somewhere? Have some fun. You need it after the other night."

Xander grinned. "That'd be great. Where do you want to go?"

"Demon market?"

Xander gave an excited skip. "I love the demon market. There's all sorts of great stuff there."

Spike laughed, he loved to see Xander like this. This Xander was so much happier than the old one. He knew he was right to do what he was doing.

"Well, then, pet. We better get going. It's a bit of a walk."

Xander grinned and headed for their rooms. "I'll need to change my shoes."

Spike laughed again. "Xander, you're not wearing any shoes."

"Yeah, and I don't want to be wandering around in the sewers with bare feet. Not good. Glass, cans ... um ... other stuff. Not what I want coating my feet. Be right back."

Spike waited, counting, "One ... two ... three, and here it comes."

Timmins voice could be heard floating down the hall, but only if you were a vampire. "Master Xander. You should call me. I'll come to you, I can hear you, you know. Which pair of boots did you want? I'll get them for you. Sit!"

Spike snickered and cruised down the hall to see Xander sitting in the reading chair in the corner.

"Spike, tell Timmins to quit picking on me. He's being a ..."

"Young Master, that's quite enough. I'm paid to care for you. How can I do my duty if I don't know you need something? Do I have to follow you around?"

"See? He's picking on me. Make him stop."

Spike held up both hands in a universal gesture of 'who me?' "Not a chance, pet. He's a good man, leave him alone. He'll get all sulky and burn the toast, or summat. Put on your boots and come on."

Xander sulked a bit but took the boots Timmins gave him and laced them up. They headed for the sewer entrance.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, pet."

"Why don't you have a ... like a gate or something to the sewers? Instead of just a drop hole. It's not really comfortable to be climbing up and down ladders like this."

"Don't know. Never bothered to mess with it, I guess. You want something different, draw it up and I'll see what I can do."

"Ok. Just seems like The Master of the Hellmouth ought to have something nicer than a hole in the floor. Know what I mean?"

Spike nodded, thinking. The sewer entrance was just a manhole in the floor and not very dignified. He wasn't used to thinking of himself as master of the Hellmouth. He had always been second to Angelus. Now that he was first, he still had moments when he forgot. He made a mental note to have something done about a nice gate.

But, for now, he had his boy to entertain. They were going shopping.

"Spike, look. Isn't it great? I want it." Xander held up an odd looking tool. Spike had no idea what it was for but if Xander wanted it, he'd have it.

"How much?" The demon who was tending the booth looked from Spike to Xander then made a gobbling sound, not unlike a turkey.

"Don't think so. Just because the boy wants it, doesn't mean I'll be cheated. I'll give you half that."

More gobbling sounds.

"That real Damascus? Xander! Pay attention."

Xander looked up from his contemplation of another desirable tool. "Sorry. What did you say?"

"Damascus. Is it?"

Xander shook his head. "No, it's acid etched. It's a good tool and I don't have one. But don't pay Damascus prices just because I want it."

Spike snarled at the demon. The demon shook his head, making his neck flaps wobble. Xander stood up and put the other tool on the small table and said, "I want this one too. Don't pay more than three Gramsfor both of them." Then he walked off. Spike grimaced at the demon who capitulated at once. No sense in trying to bargain with someone who could tell Damascus from acid etched at a glance. And three Grams was generous. Just not overly so.

Spike pulled the dime sized coins out of a pocket and dropped them on the table. The demon wrapped the tools up in paper and tied the package with a bit of string, efficiently twisting the ends into a loop for carrying. Spike handed the package to Xander and led him deeper into the market.

Xander wandered from booth to booth, looking at everything. He examined rare silks, softly tanned leathers, exquisitely made weapons and tools. He smiled at jugglers and other street entertainers. Spike realized that most of his shopping trips had to have been miserable, going with either his parents or the girls couldn't have been pleasant.

"Here, pet. This is good." Spike handed Xander a shish kabob of vegetables and beef. "Don't worry about the booth. They're clean."

Xander just grinned. He was a bit cautious about eating things from the market. He wasn't about to eat dog or something even worse, nor did he want some form of Montezuma's Revenge. So he was a bit particular about where he ate. Spike was even more particular.

"Is there anywhere I can get something sweet? I'd love an orange, or maybe a mango."

Spike grinned. Xander had broken his urge for sticky sweets and unhealthy treats. He ate a lot of steamed vegetables and fruit now.

"I'll find you something nice, pet. Might even find some pineapple. How's that?"

Xander sat down on the edge of a fountain. "Sounds great. I'll just stay right here and watch the packages. Ok?"

Spike nodded. "Sure thing, pet. I'll be back in a tick."

Xander watched the people walking around, laughing, joking, selling things, buying things and just in general being people. He wondered how the Council could possibly rate the small blue demon who made glass with the big red horned one who ate babies. It didn't make sense.

"You come with me."

Xander yanked his attention back to the general vicinity. "What?"

"You. Come with me."

Xander shook his head. "Don't think so. Spike will be back in a minute. You'd better be not here by then."

"You come with me or you'll ..."

Xander sighed, drew his gladius and stepped back to get the pushy demon outside his reach. "Or I'll what? Gut you like a big ol' smelly fish? Do you know who I belong to?"

"You belong to whoever can keep you, boy."

Xander snorted. "And you think you can? Think again, if you can jump start your brain."

The demon tried to grab Xander. He wound up with a nasty cut on his arm. Xander had been trying to cut it off but the demon's skin was tougher than it looked.

The demon snatched his hand back and was just about to grab again when, "Excuse me. Hands off." The words fell into the air like chips of ice. Spike snarled, "Xander, will you quit foolin' around? This pineapple is gettin' stale."

Xander poked the demon in the back and, when it whirled around, he stabbed it in the lower abdomen, right through the heart. It toppled, slowly at first, then it just collapsed. Xander cut a piece off its shirt and cleaned his sword.

"What was that about? You insult it or somethin'?"

"Not that I know of. I was just sitting there like you told me to. It just walked up and started issuing orders." Xander put his sword away. "You going to give that to me, or what?"

Spike handed over the pineapple and motioned a nearby demon over. "What was that about?"

The demon explained that, since Xander wasn't wearing any sort of collar or other identifying mark, the demon thought he'd found himself an unclaimed human. Spike allowed as how that was stupid, as any human just sitting around in a demon market was either a guest of someone powerful or capable of taking care of himself. He also announced rather loudly that Xander was both.

Xander sighed. He had been thinking about this for more than a month. He heard mutters from minions and grumbles from all over. He didn't wear a collar. He wasn't marked in anyway, in fact. Spike knew he didn't like the idea so he wasn't going to force the issue. But it was causing all sorts of problems.

"Spike, while we're here, we ought to get me a collar."

Spike started to say something, looked Xander in the eye and gave one short nod. The raise of Xander's chin told Spike that Xander had gotten his 'stubborns' up.

"Ok, pet. I was actually thinking more like a torc, come on. We'll go to the jewelers and see what he can come up with."

Xander picked up his pineapple and started to nibble on a piece. He had hung all the packages from his arm by their string handles. "Coming." Xander ambled along after Spike, eating his pineapple and gazing around at this part of the market. He'd never been here before.

The booths were smaller and they all had counters in the front of them. The streets were very broad and had guards waking around in them. Xander smiled at some of the jewelry, now he knew where Spike got some of the more creative things he had him wear. He stopped once to look at some amber but Spike called him to heel, he hurried to catch up.

"Don't get too far away from me. I don't want you to have to kill again. Not that you didn't do a beautiful job of it, but that's my prerogative. We'll get you something nice. Promise."

"That's good. I want something ... extravagant. Something that'll make their eyes pop. If I have to wear it, I want it to make a statement."

"Gotcha, pet."

Xander settled at Spike's feet, kneeling on the cushion provided for him. Spike took the empty bowl from him and handed it off to someone.

The master smith came in himself. He asked Spike a few questions then sent for a tray of Torc's.

Most of them were bronze, a few silver. Spike shook his head. "No. Not good enough."

The smith shrugged. "I don't have anything else. Could you look at them and tell me if you like any of the designs? If you do, I can duplicate it in any metal you like."

Xander looked over the edge of the table and examined the jewelry. He realized that they were made from many slender rods of metal twisted together. Three rods twisted into one, then three of those twisted together, then another three. The finished rod was then bent into a circle with a gap. The ends were capped with different finials. Dragons, horses, eagles, knobs of various sizes and designs, but one stood out. The ends were flattened with a hole in the middle. Xander tugged at Spike's sleeve.

"Pet?"

Xander fished his sketch out of his pocket. Spike unfolded the paper and smiled. He handed it to the smith. "Want that as the tag. See?" The sketch was rather simplistic, an X and an S intertwined, they were formed from what was obviously railroad spikes.

Xander examined the torc's. "Master Spike. I like that one. Please?" Xander poured on the 'eyes', Spike looked at the one Xander wanted and thought Xander was nuts. It was made of steel, square stainless steel rods, the end caps milled into oval shapes. The holes in the end caps were just the right size for a ring.

"If you're sure. I like it. The smith will have to take careful measurements or it won't fit."

"I know. That's ok. And look ... if you make the fastening ring oval, you can bend it down and hand the tag right off it. See?" Xander held up the torc and the ring to demonstrate what he meant.

"I see, pet. But that's a hunk of steel. It's going to be heavy."

"Not really. Stainless is fairly light and he doesn't have to use rods as thick as that. But it's really up to you. You're the boss."

Spike ran his fingers through Xander's hair. "An' don't you forget it. But if that's what you want, that's what you'll have." Spike turned golden eyes on the smith, who shuddered. "Right? An' if he gets so much as a pink spot. I'll play with your guts before your dying eyes. Got me?"

The smith nodded, Xander just muttered, 'Eeeeuuwww! With the guts again. What is it with you and playing with guts?' Spike smacked him on the back of the head, making the smith snicker.

Spike dickered with the smith for a while until they were both satisfied that they'd gotten the best of the deal. Xander listened idly, wishing for ice cream. Spike got up and called him to come along. Xander got up and followed.

"Pet, that was something special. Very special. But why? I know you don't want that collar."

"I don't. But neither one of us can spend all our time messing around with that kind of shit. Sooner or later one of those idiots has to get lucky. Master Bruce says to pick your fights. This one wasn't worth the air wasted on an argument. I'll save it for something more important."

Spike just shook his head. "Who decided you were the stupid one again?"

Xander shrugged. " 'M not smart, just ... practical"

Spike shook his head. "Oh, pet."

This chapter is short, sorry. But it was either that or a cliffie.


	22. Chapter 22

Ulterior Motives 22

o

Xander spent the next two days working on a translation. Spike couldn't figure out how the boy ... man, could translate some of the more complex demon languages but had trouble with plain English. He also had trouble with Latin, Germanic languages, and some others. But he didn't have any problems with Greek, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, or any of the Arabic languages. And how the hell had he learned all those languages. He didn't speak them, but he could read and write them. But every single note he wrote for himself was in shorthand. Spike rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. The boy just didn't seem to get it.

Spike gave up on the mystery that was Xander's comprehension of the written word and called Sylvia to his office.

When she entered he got right down to business. "You're doin' a lot of hangin' around in the stables. Not tastin' the goods, are ya?"

Sylvia gave him an indignant look and shook her head. "No, sir. I wouldn't presume. It's just that ... well, most of the lower level minions are stupid. I've had my share of master's blood so I'm smarter than your average Sunnyhell minion. I can't find anyone much to talk to. So I go down to the stables and watch soaps with a couple of the junkies. Nice girls. They're recovering and I'm teaching one of them word processing and the other one wants to learn how to cook. If you'd rather I not, I'd like to at least tell them why I can't come around anymore."

Spike eyed the female for a moment. "No, that won't be necessary. If you're visitin' that's ok. And while you're down there, go over to the dorms and visit around there too. Talk to some of the smarter minions, try to find out who made 'em. There's way too many of their sort around for it to be accidental. I'm gettin' tired 'a Buffy complaining."

"As you wish. I don't think ... it's just really weird that a simple bite will turn someone. Doesn't it take an exchange? I remember ... I think ... never mind. I don't really remember."

Spike shook his head. "See? Doesn't make sense. I remember every second of my turning. So does Angel. Somethin's up. I wanna know what it is."

Spike turned back to his papers and sylvia went about her business too.

o

Xander frowned at the paper he was holding. He knew the demon that had sent it so he couldn't understand why the fool had sent him this. It was, as Willow would have said, ookey. It was in very bad Latin and it was a very bad spell. Very dark stuff. He glanced at it again and sighed. He liked the demon but he wasn't going to do this.

He contacted the demon by the very simple expedite of calling him on the phone.

"I think you've made a mistake. This text is on my banned list. I don't do dark magic, you know that."

Xander listened to the screeching sounds that were the demons language. "I'm so sorry, young master. I sent it as a favor to a friend. One who, I thought, wouldn't have anything to do with dark magic. Please just send it back to me, I'll return it to her."

"Most humans can translate Latin for themselves. At least the most powerful of them. Why in the world would someone send something like this to me? I'm expensive enough that ... look. I need to know the name of the human. Now."

"That young red headed human girl. Rose ... borg. sometning like that."

"Rosenberg?"

"Yes, that's it. Why?"

Xander just mumbled some excuse and hung up. This was bad. Very, very bad. Xander wondered if Willow had been stupid enough to do what he thought she'd done. If she had, their friendship was totally over. Xander headed for Spikes office with the scroll in his hand.

o

"Spike, I need someone who can read common Latin to read this."

Spike held out his hand. "I can read it, pet. What's the problem?"

Xander clutched the parchment to his chest. "No, not you! Something weird is going on. Someone else."

Spike looked at Xander's face and went gameface. "Wot's up? Summat 'as ya cringin' like a pup."

"I just ... it smells wrong. Not in a smelly smell, just a bad mojo vibe sort of smell. Don't be mad." Xander put the roll down on Spike's desk and eyed it like it was going to jump up and bite him.

Spike eased between Xander and the thing. "Ok, pet, if ya don't want me ta read it, I won't. I'll get ... Call Timmins and tell him ta come here. Who sent that too ya?"

Xander told him on his way to the door. Spike picked up his phone, when he was done with his call, Xander was back with Timmins.

"Timmins, I need someone to read this. It's common Latin, but Xander says there's sommat crazy about it."

Timmins held out his hand. "I'll read it, sir. My Latin is really rusty, but if it isn't one of those nasty hybrid things I can manage"

Spike looked at Xander. "Pet?"

Xander bit his lip until it bled. "No, I don't ... what if it dusts him or something? Someone else. Someone we don't care too much about." Spike paused to blink at that bit of ruthlessness.

"Ok, pet. Timmins? Any ideas?"

Timmins nodded and used the intercom to call someone. Spike ignored him in favor of comforting Xander. Xander couldn't hear him.

"I found the perfect person. He'll be here in ten minutes. Thank goodness he was just down the block a bit. At that diner on the corner."

o

Giles walked into the office and glanced at Spike. "You needed me, Xander? What is your problem? I'll do all I can to help." Xander noticed that Giles looked really tired and more upset than he should.

"This parchment scroll. Willow sent it to me through one of my contacts. She didn't put her name on it though, she let me assume it was from my contact himself. I don't like it. It's the kind of common Latin that any school boy could translate. I glanced at it and it's even printed in a way that's easy for me to read. Something doesn't smell right."

Giles took the scroll from Spike and unrolled it. He glanced at it from the corner of his eye. That would keep any spell on it from affecting him. Unless it was aimed at him specifically. He closed his eyes and reached out with his, admittedly minimal, magical senses. He shuddered, there was, as Xander had said, something very off about it.

"I'll read it now. If I start acting oddly, or ... um ... attack either of you, you have my permission to take whatever steps necessary to negate the threat."

Xander just cleared his throat. Spike nodded, one short, sharp jerk of his head.

Giles read. The spell was simple, it was designed to sever any tie between Xander and Spike. It would also kill both of them. Giles rubbed his forehead. Willow was so completely out of hand it was frightening.

"Well, I'm very glad neither of you read it. It would have killed you. Willow is so out of hand I don't know what to do with her. I'll call the Council again. Not that it'll do any good, but I'll try."

Spike managed not to go gameface or growl. "I'll call them. I'm not havin' Red work mojo on Xander or me. I'll ..." Spike sputtered a bit then just shut up.

"No, Spike, you call the Council and back up Giles. I'll go talk to Willow. I need Bud, and ... um ... someone big and resistant to magic. Ok?"

Spike automatically said 'No.' Xander frostily informed him that his question was about the backup not the talking to. Spike snarled at Xander who snarled right back. Giles polished his glasses for a minute then bellowed, "BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!" they turned to glare at him.

"Spike, I think Xander is right. He needs to go speak to Willow. I've told her that messing around with Xander now is not only dangerous but foolish. The bond between you is unbreakable by anything but death. To try is to kill one or both of you. Probably both. She just doesn't want to believe. She thinks you're holding him in durance vile. Or some such poetic rubbish." he turned to Xander. "Go. Talk. Good luck."

Spike snarled one more time then gave up. He knew Giles understood Willow more than anyone. He shrugged. "Alright. Go. I don't understand that woman, I always really liked her. What's wrong with her?"

Giles looked weary. "Absolute power, yada, yada, yada. Good lord, I'm sounding more and more like Buffy. Tea, please?"

Spike nodded, rang Timmins and sent for tea and a couple of demons.

o

It was near dusk when Xander knocked on the door of Willow and Tara's small apartment. Tara answered the door.

"Hello, Xander. Um ... would you like to come in? And your friends too. of course."

Xander nodded gently at Tara. She didn't look too good. Sad, red-eyed and sort of drooping where she stood.

"Thanks, Tara. Anything wrong?"

Tara stepped back to allow Xander, Bud and the big, blue demon into the apartment. Bud kept near Xander but the big blue guy stayed in front of the door.

Tara looked at Bud for a moment then turned her gaze on Xander. "Willow's been trying to mess with my memories, again. I want to leave but every time I try, something comes up. But it turns out not to be anything later. I'm sick of it. Will you take me with you when you go? I don't have any where else safe to go to."

Xander just nodded. "Sure, Tara, you're welcome to come with me. Um ... you do realize that I live in the middle of a vampire court, right?"

Tara just nodded. "I'll call Willow. I'll pack while you're talking to Willow. I don't want to know what she's done now. I can't bear it."

Xander frowned at Tara's retreating back. "Bud, you think you ought to go with her? Help her?"

Bud cocked his head at Tara then shook his head. "No, she's got her head on straight now. She'll be fine. I'll go see if she needs help with her stuff when you're done here."

When she got to her room Tara called into the back bedroom. "Willow! Xander found you out. He's here. Come out!" Then entered the bedroom and slammed the door. Xander winced.

Willow rushed out of the back room and went straight to Xander, completely ignoring both Bud and the blue demon, whose name Xander didn't know.

"Xander! I'm so glad you came back to me. That scroll, I knew it would work. All it took was a bit of Latin, a simple spell and poof! Free Xander. Yay!"

Xander peeled Willow off his chest and literally dropped her on her butt.

"I don't believe you. Willow, I know Giles told you, but I'm going to repeat it. If you break the bond, you'll kill either Spike, which I know you don't care a fuck for, or me. Or both of us. I askedyou, I begged you, now I'm telling you. No more mojo. You do it again and I'll ... I'll ... call the Order of Taraka. You're so out of hand you'rein orbit around ... some planet not Earth. Get your head out of your ass. What part of kill me and no mojo don't you get?"

By now Xander was pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table, Willow still big-eyed and sitting on the floor.

"But Xander, how can you like being a slave to ... to ... him?"

Xander ran a hand through his immaculate haircut. "You should have thought of that before you ... did what ever it was you did." He tugged on his now shoulder length low pony tail. "And I'm not a slave. I'm a much valued thrall and companion. And ..."

Willow interruptedwith rather more snark that was strictly necessary. "Oh, and he's so nice. Evil vampire Hellmouth Master wannabe. You'd be so much better off without him."

Xander turned from his pacing and glowered down at Willow, arms crossed over his chest. "Well, what the hell do you know about it anyway? He gets me stuff. And makes me eat right. He worries about my health and stuff. He got me good clothing, not that salvation army castoff, Hawaiian shirt nightmare crap you got me. Nearly got me killed a couple of time. The football team took anexception to the papaya-surfer thing. He ... he... he _sees_ me. He values me."

Willow opened her mouth, then closed it. She did this a few more times, looking remarkably like one of Xander's koi. He thought that, at this moment, the fish was more his friend.

"I value you. That's why I want everything back the way it was. Like it ought to be."

"It ought to be that I get beaten daily? I have to risk my life just so you can have a jelly in the mix? I have to pick up bottles and cans to pay for donuts that I can't really afford? You're crazy. I had a job, I lost it. Several times. Why? Because no one cared enough to find out that I was supposed to be at work instead of running after you all like some kind of pet. And when it really counts? Xander gets to stay home because it's too dangerous. Fuck that! Spike is making sure that I'm ready to defend myself, and him. I can take care of things for myself now. Why should I give up someone who cares for me, for a bunch of ungrateful ... people. People who don't want me, they just want a warm body goffer. Forget it." Xander pointed his finger at Willow. "No more mojo! None. Got me?"

Willow blinked once then nodded before bursting into tears. "I'm sorry. Really I am. All I want is things to be like they used to be. When we were all friends and ... and ... I'm sorry."

"Don't cry. Don't say you're sorry. You don't really mean it. All you want is something selfish. You want your life to be like you think it ought to be. Never mind what is better for anyone else. I'm going to go to a medicine man and have a curse put on myself. One that'll turn magic back on the user." Xander turned to Bud. "Go see if Tara's ready yet. If she is, bring her stuff. We're going. Now."

Bud just nodded. "Sure thing, boss. Um ... you got a blade?"

Xander nodded. "Of course I do. Why?"

"Draw it and hold itsedge to her. It'll cut the mojo before she can cast it. Cold steel and hot magic don't mix. It won't work against a planned spell, but it'll keep her from cursing you with wild magic."

Xander pulled a knife from a concealed sheath in the thigh of his cargos. He held it edge toward Willow, who just cried harder.

o

Bud tapped at the door Tara had gone through. "You ready, miss?"

Tara opened the door, dried her eyes and murmured,"I'm ready. I heard what Xander had to say. I'm so sorry I didn't notice what was going on either. I didn't think. I was so wrapped up in Willow and ... I'm going to have to do such a cleansingspell. Who knows what nasty things she's dumped on me. Sorry, I'm babbling a bit. That trunk, that box. And I'll get the two suitcases. Let's go."

Bud picked up the trunk and box without comment, looked around the room for anything Tara might have forgotten. There was a small collection of crystals on a small table. "You missed the crystals. Shall I get them?"

"No. I didn't miss them. They were all given to me by Willow. I'm leaving anything she gave me. I'm afraid something might be an anchor for ... something. And I'm going to go over everything I own for negative influences and ... spells. So. We leaving or what?"

Bud grimaced atthe underlying sharpness in Tara's words. "Sure thing, miss. Let's get out of here. I think Master Xander has had all he can take. I know I have. The vibes in here are ... unpleasant."

Just then Xander called them from the living room. Bud let Tara go first then followed her out. He knew Tara was crying, he could smell the tears, but he wasn't sure what to do for her. Or if she even would let him do anything.

Xander sighed when Tara came into the room. "Come on, hun. We need to get out of here before Miss-use-of-magic here decides to do something else stupid. You got all your stuff?"

Tara sniffled and nodded. Xander took the suitcases from her and handed them to the blue demon. Bud started to object then decide he'd better not. Xander was actually more equipped to protect them than the blue demon was.

They traipsed down the hall and out of the building. Xander hadn't brought his truck because of the big demon. Instead they were using one of Spikes limos. Xander opened the trunk and dumped the two suitcases into it. He pushed them to one side and took the trunk from Bud then the box. All Tara's worldly possessions just filled the trunk of the limo.

o

Willow sniffled and sobbed. Xander's angry tirade had really hurt her. But she finally admitted that she'd brought it all on herself. She wondered if Xander would ever forgive her. She also knew that she was going to have to wait until he contacted her if there was to be any hope. She wondered if Tara would ever come back.

Finally she got herself together enough to go into Tara's room. She gasped when she saw that Tara had left behind anything that she had given to her. This was not good at all. Some of the crystals had protective spells on them, others, Willow had to admit, had mild controlling spells. They weren't anything bad, just spells to make Tara happy. To keep things like they should be.

Willow shook her head suddenly, there she went again. The spells didn't take into account what Tara wanted only what she, Willow, wanted. She started picking up all the crystals. They'd have to be cleansed and purified before she could ... do what with them? She shook her head again and decided to call Giles.

o

Giles greeted Tara at the door of The Master's Quarters. Tara just sniffled and walked into his fatherly embrace.

"Tara, my dear, I'm so sorry it has come to this. Shall I make the arrangements we discussed a few weeks ago?"

Tara nodded. "Yes, please. Do you think it would be ok if I stayed here until then?"

Spike grinned from behind Giles. Xander nodded to him and motioned for minions to get Tara'sthings from the car. They scurried to obey.

Spike ambled around Giles and put one arm around Xander. "What happened, Pet. You look powerful put out."

Xander gave Spike a quick run down of what had happened. Leaving out nothing. Spike replied with, "Well good for you pet. No reason you shouldn't give her a piece of your mind. What about Glenda?"

"She's going to need a place to stay until Giles can make what ever arrangements they agreed to. I'd like to make it here. She's had enough to put up with from Willow without having to find temporary housing too. Ok?"

"Sure. I'll tell Timmins to fix her up a place."

But Timmins was way ahead of them as usual.

"Young Miss, you just come along with me. I'll fix you a nice cup of tea and you can tell me where you want all your things. If there's anything you want for your quarters please feel free to ask me." Tara stuttered a bit and Timmins gave hera kindly smile. "For all that I'm a vampire, and proud to be so, please remember that I was a servant for all my living life. And my unlife. So, don't worry that you'll be a bother. Now, come along."

Tara followed the vampire valet toward the back of the residence, followed by Giles. Spike looked after them with a slight frown.

"What? Should I have waited to invite her? I'm sorry if I did wrong."

Spike turned his head to smile at Xander. "No, pet. It's fine, how could I refuse to have her after your generous heart reached out. No, that's not the problem. Angel is coming. And your collar is here."

Xander made a face. "Angel, I'm not so happy about. What does he want and how bad can I be to him? But my collar? Gimmie." Xander made grabby hands at Spike.

Spike brought the box to Xander. He settled down in a chair and put the box on the coffee table. Xander slowly removed his shirt and knelt before Spike. He looked up at Spike and the vampire had to gasp at the look of open affection from Xander.

"Don't look at me like that, pet. It's all I can do to keep from throwing ya down on the floor and havin' my wicked way with ya as it is."

Xander smiled in open joy. "Don't know as how I'd mind that so much. Now. I like kissing you. Can you put it on for me? Or ... just put it on, please."

Spike took the collar out of the box and carefully worked it around Xander'sthroat. The gap between the pierced ends was a bit too small to slip around his neck easily. Spike worked carefully so that he wouldn't bruise Xander. Xander knelt patiently, waiting. Spike finished getting the torc around Xander'sneck and stopped to look at it. It looked so fine there.

"Beautiful, pet. And it's got a couple of spells on it. One is a protection spell, the other is a rebound spell. If anyone tries to put a spell on you, at least a bad one, it'll go back to them. Almost done. All I have to do is put the ring through the ends and put the tag on it. I'll bend it into shape and that's it."

Xander reached up to touch the cold metal. It felt funny. He could feel the weight but he didn't feel any pressure. It seemed to be comfortable.

Spike slid the tag onto the ring and worked the ring through the holes. He carefully closed the ring then bent the outside down so that it didn't stick out enough to catch on anything. This put the tag hanging right at the hollow of Xander'swarm muscular throat. Spike admired it for a moment then had a lap full of laughing Xander.

"Come on. I want to see it. Where's a mirror?"

Xander jumped off Spike's lap and dragged him into their quarters. He went directly to the bathroom and the huge mirror behind the sink there. He touched the dangling intertwined X and S. Then he smiled.

ཁBeautiful. Spike, do you like it?ཁ

Spike wrapped his arms around Xander's waist. ཁIt's on you, pet. How could I not?ཁ

Xander threw his arms around Spike and hugged him hard. Spike breathed in the smell of his soon to be lover. He smelled wonderful.

ཁThought you'd be upset. Glad you're not.ཁ

ཁI had a talk with Willow and told myself some home truths as well. You've been so kind to me. Patient, waiting. You've given me something no one else bothered with. You've given me a self image, a real one. Not the donut boy. The Zeppo. You made me see that I can do stuff. I'm good at martial arts and swordsmanship. I'm learning languages faster than ... I'm not sure what. But I can learn. I need to do it differently but I can learn. I'm not stupid. And all the tools. And you've never asked for anything much. Just that ... I keep myself safe. No one ever even wanted that before. So ... yeah, not really thrilled in one way. But ... it's beautiful. And it means that you won't ... give me away or send me off. Or ... I'm getting stupid. Kiss me.ཁ

So Spike kissed Xander until he didn't have the breath to say anything. Stupid or otherwise.

ཁTonight, after court, I want it all. Gimme?ཁ

Xander sighed. ཁYeah, give you. I'm not scared anymore.ཁ

o

Xander looked up and immediately turned bright red. Tara was standing in the doorway looking at him with a very odd look on her face.

ཁUm ... like it? ... Of course you don't, gay, I forgot. But ... um ...ཁ

Tara walked over and put one finger on his lips. ཁI like it. I'm gay, not blind. You're beautiful. Going to court? Can I come? I'd like to, please.ཁ

Xander checked himself in the mirror. ཁSure, you can come, if you want. I'll check with Spike in a minute. He's got last approval. Um ... can you ... I can't reach that last chain.ཁ Tara reached out to touch a dangling chain. ཁYeah, itfastens to my collar. Thanks. I don't know where Timmins is. He usually helps me on with my gear.ཁ

Just then Timmins hurried in. ཁI'm sorry I'm late, young master. I had to see to the comfort of Master Spike's Sire. Very obliging, he is. Very charming.ཁ

Xander snorted. ཁAngel? Charming? Not that I remember. Broody boy was always a real pain in my ass.ཁ

Timmins shrugged. ཁI remember rumors of Angelus. Then he got a soul and disappeared. He's come to see his Childe. Don't be disrespectful. Master Spike would not be pleased.ཁ

Tara squeaked in fear at the thought of Spike's displeasurebut Xander just snorted. ཁOk, ok. I'll be good. But Brood boy better not get smart with Spike or I'll ... well, I'm not sure exactly what but he won't like it.ཁ

Timmins decided to have a quick talk with Spike before court convened. When he did, Spike just laughed. He knew that Xander and Angel had a history, in fact, he knew that Xander was the only one to make Angelus back down in over a hundred and fifty years. He felt a glow of pride at that.

o

Angel walked forward, into Spike's court. He'd expected a disorganized, shoddy mess. Instead, Spike's court was organized, neat, clean and well run. The vampire that had waited on him had announced that he was Timmins and, should Angel want anything, he would wait on him. Angel decided he liked Timmins.

Now he was in the actual court. He was pleasantly surprised at that too. There were no disturbances in the fringes, no pets being abused. Actually, no pets at all. No fucking in the shadows either. It wasn't like any court he'd ever been in. He was soothed by the order and quiet here.

He approached the throne and had to snicker a bit. He knew Spike's opinion of thrones and had to bite his lip to get the smile off his face. Then he frowned, he'd been told that Spike had a thrall but he didn't see the poor human anywhere. This was something he'd have to speak to Spike about.

Spike lounged on his throne and watched as Angel examined his court. He was surprised to see approval in his sire's eyes. Things were starting out well.

ཁHello, Angel. Welcome to my court.ཁ

Angel walked to the foot of the dais and nodded his head. ཁHello, Spike. Thank you for your welcome.ཁ

Spike raised his scared eyebrow. This was interesting. What did the poofy wanker want?

Spike with his usual disrespect for convention just announced, ཁOk, formalities over. What do you want?ཁ

Angel winced, his childe had no patience at all. ཁIs that anyway to talk to your sire?ཁ

ཁNo. But then, I'm Master of the Hellmouth. So, again, what do you want?ཁ

ཁTo talk to you. To see if you're doing well. I'd also like to see your pet, if that's permissible.ཁ

Spike ran his tongue over his teeth, eyed Angel then shrugged. ཁHe'll be along presently. Always put on a little show. After you tell me what you want, we'll see him. Not a pet, though.ཁ

Angel realized that one of the reasons he and Spike had never really gotten along was his, Angel's, inability to give in. Now that he wanted something from Spike he was going to have to.

ཁVery well, I want to give you something.ཁ

Spike eyed Angel with obvious suspicion, Angel's presents usually turned out to be nasty surprises.

ཁYou can keep it. I'm not too keen on your pressies. Usually nasty. Thank you so much.ཁ

Angel sighed, he'd been afraid of this. ཁThis one isn't nasty. It's just that my calling is in LA. I can't afford to be distracted by another responsibility. I want you to take it over.ཁ

ཁSee, some present. More responsibility isn't a good present. Don't know where your head is.ཁ

ཁNot into being Master of California, that's for sure.ཁ

Spike goggled at Angel for a moment. ཁOh, you've got to be kidding me. Please tell me you're not.ཁBut Angel was shaking his head slowly from side to side. ཁFuckཀ Fuckityfuckfuckfuckཀཁ

ཁOf course, I could let the domain fall into other hands, but I don't think the Order of Taraka would like that much. In fact, here's a representative of the order to speak on my behalf.ཁ

Spike gave Angel a very sour look. ཁGive me a mo'. I'm gonna send for my Thrall. I'm sure you'll be interested in him.ཁ

The order member just nodded, Angel looked surprised. He was sure the Order wasn't interested in a pet. Seemed he was wrong.

Spike eyed the demon for a moment. ཁSeems ya forgot your manners. Who the hell are you?ཁ

ཁAhཀ I do apologize. My name is D'frak. How is your thrall?ཁ

Angel's brain finally caught up. ཁThrall? You have a thrall? Have you lost your mind?ཁ

ཁNo, Three words, Willow...did...it. Ya wanna see him?ཁ

Tara, hidden behind Bud, let out a tiny squeak. D'frak glanced at her, dismissed her as of no importance and turned back to business.

Angel sighed. ཁYes, please.ཁ

D'frak nodded, eyes bright with interest.

Spike signaled and everyone in the court got quiet. This was the best part of court for many of them. The revelation of the new outfit Spike had procured for Xander.

The hooded figure approached from the side of the dais. They'd had to quit having Xander enter from the back of the room. Too many individuals, demon, vampire and human, had tried to touch Xander. Spike was tired of killing them. It depressed Xander too much too.

ཁI present my Thrall, Alexander Harris.ཁ Spike gestured to Xander. Xander stepped forward on silent, bare feet. His hooded cloak brushed the floor around his feet. Angel waited for Xander to reveal himself. He was sure he was going to be faced with a cringing broken boy.

Xander pinned Angel with a fierce, feral look as he dropped his cloak. He was wearing a mass of chains. Angel blinked, Xander gave him a look he remembered well. That 'I dare you to open your mouth' look that had always made him want to say something rude. He'd always managed to control himself, well almost always.

The torc around Xander's muscled neck was as thick as Angels finger, gold and obviously demon work. A chain dropped from the torc to a heavy belt of flattened links around his waist. Another chain dropped from the back. Chains encircled his torso from every link of the drop chain, making it a glittering, shifting sheath. From the belt a short chain followed his treasure trail down to his sex. Angel realized that the athletic cup like groin guard was locked on and blinked. Spike had always been bad at sharing. More chains dropped from the sides of the belt from Xander's waist to his ankles and from some hidden attachment near his groin down the inside of his legs. The same arrangement of chains looped around his legs from the top of his thighs to his ankles. His legs were chained together at the knees and the ankles. The heavy cuffs around his upper arms were engraved with slashing lines, making them glitter. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles were also cut. Angel realized that Xander was smirking at what he knew had to be a stunned expression. Xander winked then turned around. His buttocks were bare but a chain from the belt slid between them. Angel's eyes widened, Xander was wearing a butt plug. Angel couldn't see how big it was the flared base prevented that but the base of the plug was decorated with a raised impression of a lion with a ring in its mouth. The chain went through the ring and on between Xander's legs. Xander straightened up and turned back around. He raised his chained hands over his head, shimmied, making all the chains jingle and flash, then he bowed and went to sit at Spike's feet. Angel wondered how the hell Spike had managed to tame Alexander Harris.

D'frak didn't worry about that. All he was supposed to do was see Xander. Make sure that he wasn't being abused too much and placate Spike. The Order had found out some things that made the Fathers very nervous.

Spike was an inherently powerful Master, having a thrall made him even more so. Access to blood, freely given added to that power. Being the High Master who was Master of the Hellmouth increased it even more. He was becoming more and more powerful all the time. The Order had to access his threat quickly. The condition of his thrall was a good indicator of his temperament. Xander's condition and obvious pride in his position proved that Spike took care of his possessions. Things were looking good.

Spike patted Xander's shoulder and bent down to whisper in his ear. ཁGreat show, pet. You look all yummy and hot. I'll give ya a good seein' too later, yeah?ཁ

Xander grinned up at him and settled comfortably on his kneeling pad. He didn't kneel much anymore, more like lounged elegantly. He talked openly to Spike now and no one dared make any objection, unless they liked fried tongue, theirs mostly.

ཁThanks. Who's the new guy? And, can I annoy Angel?ཁ

ཁNew guy is from the Order of Taraka. And no you cannot annoy Angel in front of him. After D'frak is gone, all bets are off. Hush now.ཁ

Spike straightened up and glanced at D'frak who just nodded slightly to Angel and stepped back a step.

Spike turned his bright blue gaze to Angel and raised his eyebrow slightly. ཁWell, talk. Whatever you want, I'll at least listen. But if this turns out to be something gross, I'll be very disappointed.ཁ Spike's tone of voice made Angel wince.

Much to Spike's surprise Angel knelt on the first step of the dais and bowed his head. ཁI abdicate my position as Master of California to you, my Childe, Spike, also known as William the Bloody. I cannot fulfill my duties as I am called to protect the city of Los Angeles.ཁ Angel stood up bowed slightly then waited.

Spike jumped to his feet. ཁOh, you bloody wanker. I don't want it. What the hell am ... I don't ...ཁ Spike yielded to the insistent tugging on the thigh of his jeans. ཁWhatཀ?ཁ He flopped down on his throne and bent his head to listen to what Xander had to say.

ཁSpikeཀ You can'tཀ If you turn him down, the idiot will probably just walk off. He hasn't been doing anything recently ... er ... or at all. Things are getting bad, from the rumors I heard before ... Giles has been all worry face for months.ཁ

Spike snarled a bit then gave up. ཁAll right, I accept. Bloody bastard. Ya knew I was all comfortable here. I'm not goin' anywhere, not yet, maybe not ever. Whoever wants to talk to me will have to come here. That good enough?ཁ

Angel just shrugged. ཁIt's your domain now. Run it any way you want to. The Order will give you advisors and guards if you need them.ཁ

Spike shrugged. ཁDon't really need a body guard. Got Xander, haven't I?ཁ

Angel's face gave him away. Spike just grinned.

Xander stood up, the chains somehow fell away and Xander produced a sword from behind the throne. He smiled at Angel in a way that was decidedly feral and stepped down from the dais. The entire court scrambled happily out of the way. Bud pulled Tara with him, making sure she had a good view. Xander's shows were enjoyed by almost all of the court. The one's who didn't enjoy them were smart enough to keep their mouths shut.

Xander smirked at Angel once more then began to move. Angel felt like he'd been hit in the head with a battle axe.

Xander moved like water flowing. His sword glittered and flashed. Angel recognized most of the Kata, and he'd had just enough training to know that Xander was exceptional. This was the Droopy Scoobie?

Xander moved through the complicated combinations as easily as walking across the room. Angel watched critically and couldn't find a fault. As Xander continued his demonstration, Angel realized that he was using a tachi, he'd been too busy watching Xander to pay much attention to his sword. Now all he wanted was a better look at that sword.

Then Xander stopped, his sword at high guard. Spike snapped his fingers and Xander went to his side.

ཁVery good, pet. New routine?ཁ

ཁYeah, did I do well?ཁ

Spike glanced at the court. ཁYeah, you did well.ཁ The court exploded in applause.

Angel realized that Spike had such control over his court that they wouldn't even clap until he signaled that it was all right.

o

D'frak filed Xander's expertise away in his mind. That Spike had a thrall in good physical and mental condition was a huge plus on his side. That the thrall obviously liked and trusted him was an even bigger cachet. He realized that his mind was slightly boggled by the fact that Spike trusted him with weapons, with which he was alarmingly good. This was even bigger on the ཁMakes Spike a High Master' scale.

His job here was to access how well Spike was doing the job the Order of Taraka had set him. It seemed that he was doing quite well. The Order would be pleased. This pleased D'frak. He wouldn't have to figure out how to dust a master vampire, getting around his thrall didn't look like it would be very easy. As well as having to kill the, now, Master of California. The mess would be unmanageable to say the least. He settled back to enjoy the court.

o

Xander smiled at Angel, then at D'frak and winked at Tara. He was happy to see that the senior demon seemed pleased with something. The poor thing hadn't looked very happy at first. Xander leaned against Spike's leg and contemplated the demon. Something was up, but he wasn't sure what. He decided and tugged at Spike's pants leg.

ཁPet?ཁ

ཁWhat's going on with D'freak?ཁ

ཁWhat freak?ཁ Spike leaned closer. Xander took the chance to smile at Spike.

ཁThe demon from Taraka. D' something that sounds like freak. He doesn't look happy. Or maybe he does? Anyway, he's got a funny look on his face.ཁ

Spike glanced at the being in question and shrugged. ཁProbably happy he doesn't have to figure out how to kill me. And it's D'frak.ཁ

ཁOh, ok.ཁ Xander glared at D'frak as if daring him to do something. The demon gave him back a bland stare and a wink. Xander settled against Spike's leg again. ཁWho else is going to show up?ཁ

Spike sighed. ཁDon't tempt the power of worst. I don't care who shows up next. We'll deal.ཁ

Xander ignored the rest of the proceedings, it was just the usual, arguments about who owned what and who owed who. Spike handled them all without trouble.

o

When court ended, Angel asked Spike if he could talk to Xander alone. Spike didn't see any reason to deny his Sire the request so he just nodded, got up and left.

ཁIs there somewhere we can talk alone?ཁ Angel eyed Xander, wondering when he'd gotten so comfortable with nakedness.

ཁSure. We can visit in my quarters. With Timmins in attendance.ཁ

Angel gave Xander a startled look. ཁWe need a chaperone? Why?ཁ

ཁBecause I'm a thrall, not a pet, and Spike doesn't share well. Besides, Timmins will keep me from messing you up. Remember that I don't like you. I don't trust you either.ཁ

Angel grimaced. ཁOk. Can I get a cup of coffee?ཁ

Xander nodded. ཁI'll even make it myself.ཁ

He led Angel to the coffee bar and started to make the coffee, completely ignoring the fact that he was dressed in what amounted to chains. Chains which jingled as he moved. Angel sighed and wished he'd put on something a little less revealing ... or noisy.

ཁYou want some vanilla or something in it?ཁ

ཁNo, thank you. But ... um ... could you ... um ...ཁ Angel looked at the floor then the ceiling.

Xander gave him a puzzled look then laughed. ཁCover up? Ok. Never thought you'd be shy. Not from what I've heard from Spike. But I'll ring Timmins and have him put out something ... more covered. Ok?ཁ

Angel would have flushed at Xander's amusement, if he could. ཁThank you.ཁ

Xander finished with the coffee and handed Angel his cup. ཁCome on, then. My quarters are this way.ཁ

Angel looked around as he was led to Xander's quarters. Spike had chosen good furniture, in an American modern style that was comfortable and inviting. Angel thanked his lucky stars that he hadn't gone with the Victorian monstrosities he'd grown up with, or the even older style that Angel had. He peeked into doors as they passed them, two offices, a library, and another lounge/living room. This one with a surround sound television system. There were several video game controllers scattered on the top of the TV.

ཁThis looks really nice. Where are we going?ཁ

ཁMy living room. It's a bit more private than the public rooms and I don't want you in the TV room. It's messy. Timmins has given up on keeping it neat. He just cleans around the mess and grumbles.ཁ

Angel counted in his head. He'd already seen a living room and the, what he'd heard called, rec room. That meant that there had to be at least ten rooms, not counting bathrooms. Spike was living well indeed.

Xander opened a door and entered the room. It was Swedish Modern in style and quite comfortable. Xander motioned to a chair with a glass side table. ཁMake yourself comfortable. I'll call Timmins and tell him to bring me something a little less comfortable.ཁ At Angels disbelieving snort Xander demanded indignantly. ཁYou think Spike would make me uncomfortable? He's not you.ཁ

Angel winced, obviously Spike had been telling tales. ཁI know. I did my best to beat the heart out of him. I just managed to submerge it.ཁ Angel sipped at the coffee, surprised at how good it was. ཁI have some questions I'd like to ask you. If you don't mind.ཁ

ཁYou can ask. I don't promise to answer.ཁ Xander wandered around the room a bit, giving Angel more of a look at his bare buttocks than he really wanted. He finally went to the small table near the door and spoke into an intercom there. Angel didn't bother trying to listen. Xander wasn't talking softly enough to make whatever he was saying a big secret. Angel didn't listen anyway, this was going to be hard enough without the accusation of eavesdropping.

ཁOk. You can quit not eavesdropping now.ཁ Angel sighed, ཁOh, don't give me that. You're so sensitive that you're practically vibrating. What's up? And just spit it out. My freak-o-meter is broken.ཁ

ཁVery well. Once you're dressed, we'll talk, not until. I find it totally distracting, that outfit, I mean. If I was Angelus, I'd jump you in a second. You've turned into a very attractive young man. And very ... powerful, in your own way. I understand you do translations?ཁ

ཁYeah, and before you ask. I just learn certain languages very easily. Don't know how. Anything with a symbol based alphabet, piece of cake. Anything with a roman alphabet? I'm in trouble. Change the subject. What else do you want to know?ཁ

Angel forbore to press the subject and asked, ཁHow the hell did you wind up a thrall to Spike of all people?ཁ

ཁTwo words, Willow... mojo... bad... um ... that's three, sorry.ཁ

Angel sipped at his coffee while he digested that one. ཁI see. Giles better get that young lady under control before something really bad happens. She has no idea how to actually work a proper spell. She substitutes too many ingredients and combines spells that she shouldn't even know.ཁ

ཁSee? Exactly what I've been telling her for months. Giles does what he can, but he's a Watcher, with an active Slayer to take care of. I'll admit that he could have done better with me. But ... if you look at it from the right perspective, he's really got his hands full. He shouldn't have to mess with a bunch of hangers on too. On the other hand, since we're all helping the slayer, he could do better.ཁ

Angel rubbed his face. ཁYou want Wesley back?ཁ

Xander shuddered. ཁLord, no. Giles has it under control, for now. I think this mess with me has taught Willow a lesson, especially since Tara left her over it. Tara's still around but not with her. Next question.ཁ

Angel started to say something but was silenced by a tap on the door. Xander called, 'Come in.' and went to the middle of the room.

Timmins entered, bowed to Angel and went to Xander. Xander held his arms out to the sides and allowed Timmins to remove his decorations. When they got down to just the belt with the rest of the chain a puddle at Xander's feet, Xander suddenly grinned at Angel.

ཁOk, not going to manage this.ཁ Angel gave Xander an enquiring look. ཁI wanted to be all cool and 'look at the thrall, all relaxed' and stuff.ཁ Xander flushed a bit. ཁBut, it's not working. Could you turn around for a minute?ཁ

Angel realized what was embarrassing Xander and just turned his back. Timmins murmured softly, Xander grunted once then sighed. ཁOk you can turn back around now.ཁ

Angel turned to see that Xander was now dressed in simple trousers and a neat shirt. Both linen. He padded on still bare feet to the chair across from Angel and settled in it.

ཁThanks, Timmins, that was quick. I've never gotten dressed quite that fast before. That's a neat trick with the shorts. Oh, and could you bring some snacks, I'm starved. Thanks.ཁ

Timmins smiled, bowed and left. Angel rubbed his forehead and asked, ཁYou do know that Timmins is nearly ... umm...ཁ Angel figured in his head. ཁSix hundred years old? Or there abouts.ཁ

Xander shrugged. ཁHe's told me how old he is. But I really don't remember. Doesn't make any difference. He's decided to serve Spike, which means he takes care of me. Now,Something is eating at you. Why don't you just spit it out and get it over with. And if you're going to tell me that I need sires recognition, forget it. You're not biting me. Spike hasn't yet and you don't get to be first.ཁ

Angel grimaced, this was not going to go well at all.


	23. Chapter 23

Ulterior Motives chapter 23

Angel contemplated Xander for a few moments while Xander just sat comfortably and smirked back. Angel realized that he found Xander to be as annoying as ever, and a lot more threatening.

"Look, I know you don't like me. But there's some things you need to know. I've dumped California on Spike so the Order of Taraka is going to really have an eye on both of you. So far you're both doing well. I'd hate to see something go wrong."

Angel couldn't believe that Xander could move so fast or be that strong. He was pressed up against the wall with Xander's thumbs digging into his throat before he could blink

"I know choking you won't do much but I like it. You don't threaten me. You don't threaten Spike. I don't like you. If you're not careful, you'll wake up with a stake in your heart. Got me?"

Xander let Angel go and sat back down in his chair. Angel straightened his tie and sat down too.

"Wow, Sire's blood really makes you aggressive." Xander just shrugged. Angel cleared his throat and continued. "I'm sorry. I seem to have given you the wrong impression. I don't want to fight with you. I just want to warn you. You're Spike's thrall, constant companion and confidant. As well as body guard. And I don't want Sire's Privileges. Spike would stake what was left of me after you got done. So thanks, but no thanks. All I want to do is make sure that you don't fail."

Xander just shrugged. "I don't intend to fail. All I have to do is be me. Spike's happy with that. The real me, not the Zeppo or the Donut Boy. So ... I'm not trying to be impolite but Spike's promised to fuck me tonight and I'd like to get around to that fairly soon. So ... if that's all."

Angel knew he'd be red, if vampires could blush. "That's ... um ... good. One of the things I really needed to cover with you ... um ... you're not claimed ... but ... um ..."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Christ, how old are you? Sixteen? Ok. Just to show that I'm a good guy. No, Spike hasn't bitten me ... yet. And, yes, he's been giving me his blood for months. You didn't get a good look at my back. I usually manage to prevent that. My ol' man nearly killed me. Spike fixed it. And ... Willow has got to stop using mojo. She just messes it up something awful. I'm Spikes thrall because she messed up a friendship spell. Any more questions?

Angel just shook his head. "No, I think that just about covers all of them. Just ... take care of him. He's more fragile than you'd believe."

Xander snorted. "Like I don't know that. He needs love so bad. Soulless monster, I don't think. And I don't even want to think about what the hell was in your mind back then. And don't tell me it was Angelus. You're still him on some level or other. You're just as cruel to him in your way as Angelus was in his. Now, I've got some primping and fussing to do. Want to look pretty when Spike gets here. So not to put too fine a point on it. Get out."

Angel cringed at Xander's words but didn't even think to argue with him. When Xander pointed to the door and told him to get out, he just stood up and left. It wouldn't do him any good to make excuses, excuses that even he didn't believe anymore.

Xander stared at the door for a long while after Angel left. Something about Spike being the Master of California gave him the willies but he couldn't figure out why. He shook off the mood and rang for Timmins.

The valet came into the room with a slight smile on his face.

"Ok, what?" Xander planted his fists on his hips and gave Timmins a mock glare.

Timmins just grinned. "It's about time. I thought Master Spike was going to pop before you ... gave in."

"Oh, gave in, is it? I'd be pissed but you're right. At least he didn't try to force the issue. I don't think I could have stood that. Now ... enough angsting. Make me pretty."

Timmins just snickered and made Xander 'pretty'.

.

Spike finally got away from court and went in search of Xander. He found Angel instead.

"Ok, what? I've got something else to do."

Angel rubbed his face. "And the patience of a gnat. I know. I'm not entirely sure where to start ... I need to explain some things to you. Things I should have told you years ago."

Spike just snorted and snarked, "Things like ... my blood will keep the boy alive long after he should have been dead, without my having to turn him. Things like, claiming him isn't necessary to the blood working? Like ... oh, I dunno ... lots of vampires keep their souls, it takes a master like you to get rid of it?"

Angel sighed. "Yeah, things like that. Should I just leave?"

Spike pulled his cigarets out of his pocket. "Yeah, maybe you should. Prat." He lit a cigaret and watched as Angel walked off, shoulders bowed. "Idiot. Could have loved ya. Would have. Loyal as my boy in my own way. You didn't earn it. He did. Know which side my bread's buttered on." Spike finished his cigaret in a few puffs and stamped the butt into the floor.

He made it to the bedroom just as Timmins shut the door behind him.

"He ready?"

Timmins smiled. "Oh, he's more than ready. Master Angel managed to make him angry. I never thought a human could move that fast, but then, Master Angel wasn't expecting anything to happen. I was very proud of him, Xander that is. The rest of the conversation was very calm, to the point, and quick. Then Master Angel left."

"Yeah, he had a stab at me next. I hope the poof is proud of himself. All soul having and what not. Idiot. You make sure that I'm not disturbed. Got me?"

"Yes, master. I'll put out the word. Master D'frack decided to stay a day. I put him in the best guest accommodations. Master Angel didn't want them. And I'm sure he's left by now. I'll check, shall I?"

"Please do. I don't want him near my boy. Xander doesn't like or trust him enough that they won't be at each others throats again. Don't want either of them to off the other. I'll be mightily pissed either way."

Timmins left and smirked as he shut the door.

Spike knocked once then opened the door. Xander was in the bed, covered to his waist and smiling.

"Hello, Angel gone?"

Spike walked to the bed, dropping clothing as he went. "Yeah, pet. Gone back to L.A. I hope. He's a wanker, a prat and a pain in my arse. Glad to see him go. Don't want to be Master of California as well as the Hellmouth. Dammit!"

Xander just opened his arms and took Spike onto his chest. "Well, you're stuck with it. The Order won't let you get out of it or I miss my guess. We'll just have to deal. Forget about it now. See to me."

"Give ya a good seein' too. An' I'll forget about the Hellmouth and California until I feel like worrying about it again. Tomorrow ... or the next day."

Xander pulled Spike down for a heated kiss. "Next day. Or ... well... mmmffff." Spike shut him up with his tongue.

Xander thrust his tongue back at Spike's. They tangled on the bed for a few moments. Spike wound up on top, of course, but Xander bucked and rolled, doing his best to throw Spike off. Spike pinned him down with a hand on each shoulder. Xander laughed, tugged Spike down for another kiss and rolled him to the bottom.

"Easy, pet, don't wanna damage the goods. Gonna have ya. Gonna let me?"

Xander reached down and gently pinched one of Spike's nipples. "Yeah, gonna let ya."

Spike moaned softly as his nipple peaked in interest. He returned the favor and smiled as Xander groaned softly and flopped over sideways. "Ok. I give. More of that, please."

"I will. I want you to enjoy this. A lot. I want you to want to do it again and again. Never wanna hurt ya."

Xander just groaned louder as Spike leaned over him and sucked one nipple into his mouth. Spike tongued it into a hard point then turned to the other. Xander just whimpered. Spike took his time, sucking and nibbling at Xander's sensitive nipples until he was limp and moaning.

"Lift your leg, pet. Let me at you."

Xander obediently put his foot on Spike's shoulder. Spike coaxed Xander into the position he wanted. Xander cooperated eagerly, making Spike say softly, "Good, Xander, that's good."

Spike used plenty of lube and patience, getting Xander relaxed and very ready for more. In fact, by the time Spike was done stretching and playing with Xander, he was nearly screaming with need.

Spike moved Xander carefully to brace against the head of the bed. Xander couldn't stand the wait. He'd been good long enough.

"Spike, if you don't do something soon, I swear I'm going to take things in hand myself."

Spike didn't say anything, he just took Xander's hands in his and moved them to grasp his legs across his shins just below the knees. "Hold them just like that. I want ya all spread for me. Make it easier and it'll feel so good. Promise, pet."

Xander just panted and moved his hips in a desperate plea for he wasn't sure what. Spike gave Xander's prostate one more stroke and moved to line himself up to push against Xander. Xander squirmed a bit to get a better brace against the headboard. Spike pushed against the now loosened ring of muscle guarding Xander's entrance. Xander moaned and pushed back.

Spike whimpered softly, the boy was so warm and the lube made him slick. His grasping muscled nearly made Spike lose control completely. He took a moment to contain himself then started to move gently in and out. Xander grasped his shins harder and watched Spike's face, the emotions flitting across it.

Xander watched as joy, ecstasy, wonder, and something unidentifiable flitted across Spike's face. Then he forgot everything as Spike moved within him, nudging against what Spike referred to as his golden spot. Xander's vision narrowed to Spike's eyes then went black.

Spike noticed that Xander's pupils were blown and gave one more thrust before he came, shuddering and shouting. Xander whimpered then shuddered too as his body started to convulse.

The next thing either one of them knew, Timmins was wiping them down with a warm wash cloth. He pulled the covers up over both of them and turned off the lights. Xander was asleep when Spike kissed his forehead gently then settled down beside him.

.

Xander woke slowly, something was tickling his nose. He swatted at it and heard a throaty chuckle.

"Don't want it, pet? If you don't, I'll eat it myself."

Xander smelled toast, and butter, and jelly, he sat up abruptly and announced. "No! Mine! Gimme! Get your own."

Spike laughed. "There's enough for both of us. Timmins comes through again. Here, it's strawberry jam."

Xander snatched the toast from Spike and crammed it into his mouth. "Mmmm. Goo' 'ie 'a 'all I' 'am?"

Spike wrinkled his brow as he tried to translate Xander's mouth full of toast mumble. "Why do they call it jam? Donno, just that it's not jelly, I guess. Ask Timmins. Look, hate to be a buzz kill, but I've got a lot of mess to catch up with from Angel not doing anything in for ... well, ever. Bastard. Master Bruce is expecting you in about an hour and a half. And don't forget that Giles is coming this afternoon for a lesson. You're going to start learning how to play in ensemble." Spike pronounced the word on-samble. Xander gave him a blank look. "With other people. I'll be playing keyboard and Giles will play his guitar ... you did practice, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did. I swear. I'll be in the gardens after my workout. I haven't had time to go down for a bit. I miss them."

"Ok. I'll send for you if I need you for something. Ok?"

Xander looked up from pouring his coffee. "Fine. If I have a change, I'll let you know. Send to tell me?"

They'd started to make a point of keeping each other notified of where they were. Timmins thought it was cute and made sure that both Spike and Xander knew where the other was.

Spike made his way to the door, adjusting his 'set' as he went. He grinned to himself.

Xander finished his coffee and attacked his eggs. After finishing his breakfast he showered and headed for the dojo. Master Bruce was waiting.

.

Master Bruce put Xander through his paces, despite the fact that Xander should have been sore. Xander was secretly very pleased that Spike had been careful enough that he actually wasn't sore at all.

Xander went through his kata for sword, pole arm, small weapons, and weaponless, quickly. He took only about an hour. Then he settled to meditate for a bit. Master Bruce nodded his pleasure at Xander's improvement.

"I'm very pleased with you. That was excellent. Your new gladius has been delivered and I'm going to start you on exercises with it during your next lesson. How are you doing with your guitar?"

"Good, really good. I've been practicing an hour every day. Then I spend sometime on wood working. I've been neglecting my gardens a bit but, since I've got help, it's not that big a deal. If there's a problem, one of the gardeners comes to me and we work it out. But I'm needing more time to relax, I'm getting a bit burnt out. All this angsting and what not is a pain. You heard?"

Master Bruce nodded. "Yes. I was at the back of the court. You were beautiful. Powerful, graceful, everything I look for in a student. I was very proud of you. As to Master Spike being Master of California? Interesting. He'll be able to hold his court together, I'm sure. But he's going to be very busy for a while. That big an area left to its own devices for so long isn't a good thing. There's going to be so many beings wanting judgement that he's going to be up to his eyebrows in complaints for weeks."

"Yeah, too bad someone can't help him out a bit. Lower court sort of thing. Take your complaint to them, if they can't settle it, bump it up a step. But it'd never work. None of the complainants would put up with it. Sucks, but there you are."

Master Bruce nodded. "It's too bad, but he's going to have to do it all himself, at least for now."

"Bleh! Well, I'm going to shower again then head for my gardens. The orchids are in full flower and I want to admire them. And the African Violets are coming on too. So ... that's where I'll be if you need me for anything. Bye."

After he got out of the shower, Xander picked up an escort at the door, ignored him and headed for the gardens. His first present from Spike, gardens he still cared for deeply, even if he didn't have as much time for them as he wished. He made a vow to change his schedule so he had more time for them. He decided that the woodworking could wait once in a while. His translations, however, had to be kept up. It was one way Spike knew who was planning what.

Narma met him at the gate with a list of things that needed doing. He was a bit amused to see that it was in hieratic. He went over it with Narma and approved most of it. He refused Narma's request to build a shadoof, asking, "What the hell is that and why do we need it?"

"Oh, master, it's a way to lift water from one level to another, my people use them all the time."

Xander shook his head, this was one of the disadvantages of having a man this old as Chief Gardener, some of his antiquated ideas were difficult to dislodge.

"We'll use an electric pump. A waterfall here and there can do more than look pretty. I'll design it myself. Don't argue. Please. I don't feel like being all logic boy. Ok?"

Narma bowed slightly. "As the young master pleases. Shall I make tea for you?"

Xander settled at the table in the middle of the orchid garden, by the koi pond. "Please. Jasmine, if there is any. And send to let Timmins know that I'm here. I just want to sit and listen to the water and smell the flowers. The orchids are in great shape. How are the violets?"

Narma stood beside the table, Xander had never been able to get him to sit, sometimes he'd squat, but that was about it. They discussed the wandering stream and waterfalls that Xander wanted to install with Xander drawing designs in a small sketch book. After finalizing the design, Xander worked up a materials list, and enjoyed every second. Then they went on to the violet collection. Xander had ordered several leaves which had taken quite well and the plants needed repotting. Xander insisted on doing that himself so Narma just took the plants that needed it to the potting shed and kept them until Xander could get around to them. He made sure to get around to them within two days of Narma telling him about them.

"Well, that's about that. I'll head for the shed and repot the violets. Then I'm going to the filling station and see the rest of the plants. After that, music lesson, so don't let me stay too long. Ok?"

Narma executed one of his graceful bows. "As the young master wishes."

Xander made it to the shed with only three distractions, all of them important.

He spent an enjoyable time repotting the violets and messing around in the dirt. He straightened away his mess over the protests of two gardeners, who wanted to do it for him. He told them that he'd made the mess, he'd clean it up. They settled against the wall to watch him with awe in their eyes.

Xander checked the potting shed to make sure that he hadn't left anything undone then made his way to the old filling station to check on his other violets. He examined them happily, they were beautiful, well cared for and their setting in the old-fashioned display cases interesting. Xander had replaced the lights with grow lamps so the plants would get plenty of good light and they were blooming enthusiastically because of it. He settled at the small table under the skylight to enjoy the sun and his flowers.

Narma spoke from the door. "Master? Would you like some tea or some other refreshment? I could bring it to the edge of the sun." Narma had brought Xander tea right after the station had been finished and nearly dusted himself trying to dart in and set it down before he caught on fire. Xander had doused him with a nearby pot of water and bawled him out, telling him never to do such a thing again. Narma had been astonished to find out that both Xander and Spike valued him more as a gardener than as a slave.

"Thanks. I'd love a cup of coffee. Tell Timmins to make it and put it in a thermal cup. Tell him where I am too."

"Yes, master."

Xander mumbled, "Not a master. Just a guy."

Narma snorted, he knew a master when he saw one. It was just that Xander was a very good one.

.

Xander eased into the music room, he'd stayed a bit too long in the station and was late, by his watch.

"Sorry I'm late. I got distracted by doing nothing for once. Sorry."

Giles looked up from the music he was examining. "That's ok. You're not really late. I'm early and Spike said to tell you that he's running a bit late. Here. This is the music I intend to cover this session. Go ahead and try to play it over. After we do this piece, we'll go over the piece you've been practicing."

"Oh? And why this order instead of the one I've been practicing so hard on?" Xander felt a little resentful. He'd been looking forward to showing off a bit. He'd practiced really hard, with Spike on the clavichord, and he'd been wanting to show Giles how hard he'd worked.

"Because I know you've worked hard and I want to save the easy bit for later. You'll be tired and it'll be good for us to end on a high note. Um ..."

Xander laughed. "Yeah, high note. Ok, I get it. Fine." Xander glanced at his watch. "Spike should be here soon. He usually doesn't let business go much after quitting time."

Just as Xander finished speaking, Spike walked in, grumbling about 'gits' not taking a hint worth shit.

Xander struggled hard not to laugh and just barely succeeded. Giles didn't bother. His laughter rang out, rich and clear. Spike just snarled at him half-heartedly.

They settled after a few snarky remarks flew back and forth. Giles tapped his foot on the floor to mark the time and they started. Xander struggled a bit but managed to play fairly well. He wondered what the point of the exercise was but stuck with it anyway. They played the piece through several times getting better witheach one.

Finally, Giles tapped a fingernail on his guitar and announced, "Very good. Thank you so much, Master Spike, for being so patient with this. Xander, you're doing so well. I don't believe you got it perfect in so few repetitions. Now we'll play the piece you've been practicing."

Xander nodded, Spike just put his fingers to the keyboard again. When Giles counted the time they all managed to start together on the first try. It only took them two tries to get completely through the piece without a mistake. Spike smiled at Xander in approval and Giles was surprised to see Xander grin back in easy familiarity.

Spike noticed Giles watching them and nodded. "My boy is smart. Don't know where ya got the idea he's stupid. Don't know where he got it either."

Giles took off his glasses and polished them. "Well, I read his records. They're fairly pointed as to the fact that every test he's ever taken has put him in the bottom 10. It's also noted that he took aptitude tests in grade school that place him in the ... er ... slow category. I'm beginning to wonder what those testers were smoking."

Xander flushed heavily. "I don't test well. I get ... nervous so I get stupid. I can't remember stuff. And numbers just ... never mind. It's not important anyway. Can we play that first piece again?"

Spike gave Giles a speaking look and turned the page back to the beginning of the piece. "Sure, pet, wanna set it while it's fresh?"

Xander cleared his throat. "Yeah, that's the idea."

Giles just struck the first cord, but he made a note to himself to look into this further, soon.

.

Xander looked up from his latte, Bud rather pointedly ignored the redheaded woman.

"Xander, I just stopped by to give you this. Please? Take it. You can have Spike have someone check it out. It's just to protect you from ... bad magic. Even magic with good intention that would hurt you somehow. And psychic attack." Xander smiled at Willow tentatively but wouldn't touch the stones she was holding out to him. They were beads of stones braided into a leather string. Xander wasn't sure what to call the thing, but it had red jasper, chrysoberyl, carnelian, garnet, black onyx, labradorite, and some others Xander didn't recognize, as well as a bead of copper, brass and silver.

Bud reached over and took it. "If it checks out ok, I'll braid them into his hair in a war lock. Ok?"

Willow smiled hesitantly. "Yes. That'd be good. Really good. Thanks." She turned to Xander with tears trickling down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. Really. I'm going to Oxford in a few days. Write me?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I can do that. You write me back. Only ... write nice, Ok? I still can't read your handwriting."

Willow smiled a bit sadly. "I'll ... write nice. Bye. See you soon." She waved over her shoulder with one hand, wiping at her eyes with the other.

Xander leaned back against the back of his chair. "Well, that went well ... not. I just ... I can't quite trust her. I forgive her, but if I said so, she'd be all ... oh, Xander forgives me, everything can go back to normal now. Only, it ... her idea of normal is what used to be. And I'm not her ... I'm not the same. I've got ... something. Never mind. Just see that that thing is ok." Xander swallowed the last of his coffee and got up. "Let's get out of here. I'm all jittery now." Bud snorted. "And it's not the coffee. The stuff they serve here is weak."

Bud didn't argue. He just followed Xander out to the parking lot. He was well aware that Xander was so good natured that he seemed spineless, but he knew that was an illusion that most people, and demons, didn't want to shatter. He'd seen how good Xander was in battle, no one that good at fighting was a pushover. No one.

"Master Xander, we should go to the Magic Shop and see Mr. Giles. He'll know if it's safe or not. If she didn't have him help her with it, he'll at least know how to test it for ... problems."

Xander thought for a moment, Giles had seemed happy with him that afternoon. "Ok, but if he gets all 'I know what's best' I'm out of there. I don't need to be patronized by anyone. And Giles gets that way, way too often for my taste. Come on."

Xander drove to the Magic Box, even though it was only two or three blocks away, Spike had forbidden him to wander the town after dark. He was too easy a target on foot, not that Spike thought Xander an easy target anymore. After all, he fought Spike himself to a standstill, once in a while. He just didn't want to have to go hunt down some idiot who thought Xander was easy. It was just more trouble than it was worth. Xander didn't argue with Spike. One, it pissed him off and two, he was right, so Xander drove.

Bud was pleased to see a spot right in front of the shop. Xander parked quickly and headed for the shop, Bud right behind him.

The merry jingle of the bell over the door made Giles pop his head out of the office. He leaned back in his chair enough that he could see around the door jamb.

"Xander! And ... Bud? Hello, what's wrong?"

Xander had Bud hand the string of gemstone beads to Giles, still refusing to touch it.

"This. I don't know if it's dangerous or not. Willow gave it to me. Said it was to protect me. Is it ok? Do you know anything about it?"

Giles accepted the amulet from Bud. "Yes, I helped Willow make it for you. I'd have told you about it but she wanted it to be a surprise. It's fine. All the stones were cleansed. I blessed most of them myself. Willow blessed some of the rest and Tara blessed one or two. You really should take this to Tara instead of me. It is safe. I swear."

Xander took the amulet from Giles and shoved it into his pocket. "I haven't seen Tara since court two days ago. She moved into her own place. I think Spike is helping her a little. Is she talking to Willow yet?"

Giles rubbed his face. "Not really. Willow ... she just doesn't get it. She'll be addicted to magic soon if she doesn't get things under control. That's one of the reasons I encouraged her so strongly to go to Oxford. There is a very strong coven there. I've written to the High Priestess who will contact Willow with some excuse or other. I'm leaving it all in her capable hands. I don't have the time or resources to deal with a Wicca as powerful as Willow. Or Tara either. But Tara can be trusted implicitly. She's got her head on straight. Now... I hate to throw you out, but if I don't close now, I'll have a shop full of late night wanna be's and I don't feel like dealing with it. Shoo. Go see Tara, if you think you need to."

Xander shook his head. "Don't need to, G-man. If you say it's ok, I'll quit worrying. Bud said he'd braid the beads into a war lock. That's not like a male witch, right?"

Giles laughed on his way to lock the door. "No, what he's talking about is a braid of hair. If Bud..." Giles made a clicking sound with his tongue that Xander knew was an honorific in Bud's language. "says you're entitled to a war lock then you are. I'm very pleased that he feels you're worthy. Now, again I say, shoo. I want my tea." But Giles smiled in a fatherly way that took the sting out of his words.

Xander headed for his truck again with Bud at his heels. "A war lock, huh? How's that work?"

Bud settled in the passenger seat and leaned against the door. "Well, first you have to prove that you're a warrior. You've done that. You have to prove that you can obey your lord, no matter what, you've done that in spades. You have to be able to take and give orders with dignity. Done that. And you have to not only be good with weapons but able to actually kill something. You've done that and more. So, you're a warrior and worthy of a war lock. I'll braid you one myself and teach Timmins how to help you take care of it. If I need to. Knowing him, he already knows how."

Xander kept his eyes on the road. "And what is Spike going to say about this?"

"Not much. Probably be really proud of you. It's not easy to be accepted into the ranks of warriors in my tribe. But I say you're good enough."

"Oh, well, thanks. You want some fries?"

"Could be persuaded."

Xander pulled through the drive through at a fast food joint and they ordered fries and sodas.

Xander parked on a side street so they could eat in peace. The night was fine and the moon was nearly full. A perfect night to snack and gossip.

Xander had just finished the last of his fries when it happened. The first thing they noticed was a shadow, darker than the rest, that flitted across the street a half a block ahead of them. Xander nudged Bud.

"I see it."

"Yeah, but what is it?"

"Not sure."

"I hate that. I don't know how to kill 'not sure'. That sucks."

Bud didn't bother to suppress his grin. "But it's a lot more fun."

Xander pouted. "Don't like 'not sure'. Think I'll just go kill it now."

"Right behind you."

Xander bailed out his side of the truck and rolled underneath it. Bud jumped into the bed. He liked a high point, and it also attracted all the attention.

They both waited until the shadows resolved themselves into three vampires. Xander crawled back out from under the truck, shaking his head as he did so.

"Damn! Where did not sure come from?"

Bud just shrugged. "Well, I wasn't sure. I never thought that three fledges this young would have the guts to come after both of us. This is just annoying. And where the hell do they come from?"

Xander eyed the fledges as he thought. "I don't know. You know Spike forbade making fledges and leaving them to themselves. But someone is doing it anyway. Let's keep one."

"Ok. You're the boss. Which one do you want to keep?" Bud eyed the three vampires doubtfully. He wasn't sure the fledges even knew who'd made them. Many of the youngest ones on the Hellmouth didn't. It pissed Spike off to no end too. Xander said so to Bud.

One of the fledges spoke up. "I know who Sired me. I'm not stupid like the rest of these yokels."

Xander nodded at him. "We keep that one. Dust the other two. Or ..." Xander sidestepped the charge of the one who looked like a football player. "Just let them manage on their own." The vampire ran right onto the stake Xander was holding and went, as Buffy said, 'poof! All dusty.' Xander grabbed the one they wanted to keep and wrestled with him. He was stronger than a normal man his size but Xander had been getting Spike's blood long enough that they were just about equally matched. Except that Xander had a lot more training than the vampire. He put the idiot in a head lock and just waited for Bud to come help him.

Bud dusted his opponent quickly and just went to the truck, opened a tool box and pulled out a tow chain. It didn't take them long to chain the fledge firmly. Xander gagged him too, remarking, "Geeze, language." They tossed him into the back of the truck and headed for home.

.

Spike was waiting in the garage. A call on Xander's shiny new cell phone had alerted him to the capture.

"Where is he, pet?"

Xander stalked up to Spike. "Kiss! No pressie without a kiss."

Spike obliged Xander, realizing that he was high on adrenalin and probably coffee and sweets. Xander wasn't supposed to eat too many sweets and he knew it but Spike turned a blind eye to an occasional binge.

"Ok, pet." Spike gave Xander a long, lingering kiss then eased him away. "Now, where's the fledge?"

While Xander had been checking the condition of Spike's tonsils, Bud had been dragging the fledge out of the back of the truck and chaining him to a pillar. Now both Spike and Xander went to see what they could find out.

It didn't take long for Spike to get the young vampire to talk. He was, after all was said and done, a very junior executive type. He was used to taking orders, not giving them. Spike promised him a place in the court if he'd tell what he knew.

What they found out was; there was a master vampire who was more or less, probably more, insane. He wanted to take over the Hellmouth and thoughtthe way to do that was flood it with fledges. He didn't care that they had no idea how to take care of themselves, or how to feed without killing. They just woke up, climbed out of their coffins and started looking for food. Sometimes, as in his case, the master would keep the body nearby until it woke, just to see if it would.

Spike just shook his head. "I got to find that wanker and take care of him. I'm gonna dust 'im good. That's just ... not right. Angelus didn't do right by me, but at least he taught me ta hunt and feed. This pillock ... he just needs a good staking. I'm goin' out."

Xander didn't argue with Spike, he could tell it wouldn't do any good. Instead he just kissed Spike good-bye and told him good hunting. Spike left the garage, telling Timmins to take the 'new guy' down to the dormitory and turn him over to one of the older vampires for training.

Xander went to their quarters, followed by Bud.

Timmins met them at the door, having just finished settling their newest resident. "You took your time."

Xander shrugged. "Knew you'd be busy for a while. We stopped to get beer. You get that guy settled?"

Timmins nodded, saying absently, "Yes, but he's not going to last long. He's untutored and unwilling to learn. It seems that one thing that master passes along is terminal stupidity."

Xander pulled the braid of gemstones out of his pocket. "Look. It's safe. Giles said so. Willow gave it to me. She said it was to protect me from all sorts of magic. Bud said he'd braid them into a war lock. You know how to take care of one? I sure don't."

Timmins bowed slightly. "Yes, I know how to care for one. This is quite the accomplishment. Congratulations. I'll bring more beer."

Xander turned to Bud who explained. "Braiding a war lock is an occasion for much celebration among my people. Too bad we're not in my home. There'd be a big party, lots of food, drink, dancing girls and boys. But just the two of us can have some beer and music. Small celebration."

Xander just grinned. "I don't drink a lot anyway. My dad cured me of that a long time ago. Now, what do we do first?"

Bud took the braid and started undoing it. "First we get the beads out of this braid. Then we start your war lock."

Xander settled on the floor at Bud's feet. Bud ran his hands through Xander's hair, long enough to make a braid by now. The braid was short, granted, but it was thick and soft. Bud decided that Spike was the luckiest male he knew.

"You've got great hair. Let me finish unbraiding it. Then we'll decide where to put the war lock."

Xander thoughtabout it for a moment. "If it doesn't make any difference, I know where I want it."

"Doesn't make much difference. Most tribes have one place that everyone in the tribe puts theirs. But, since you don't have a tribe, it doesn't matter. Where do you want it?"

Xander pointed to his temple. "Just about here. Where it'll hang in front of my ear. Wanna show it off."

"Very well. Now, beer, much beer." Bud opened the first can and took a healthy swallow, he handed the beer can to Xander, who took a swallow then handed it back. "Well, much beer for me, not so much for you. Ok?"

Xander laughed and nodded. "You wouldn't like me drunk anyway. I'm a pouter. So, what do we do next?"

Bud picked up the first stone. "We put this in. This stone likes to be next to the skin, so it goes first. We need some fine string to pull the hair through it." Bud produced a piece of butchers' twine and used it to pull a strand of Xander's hair through the hole in the bead. He braided a few turns then added another bead on a different strand of hair. Then he drank some more beer.

They did this again and again until Bud was thoroughlydrunk, Xander was tipsy and all the beads were braided into his hair. They had to do two locks, which Bud announced was a good thing. Xander examined himself in a mirror and decided that it was a good look for him.

"Look great, pet. Like it"

Xander yelped.

"What?"

"Don't do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack. And, I'd like to know ... why doesn't the mirror show you but a digital camera will? Very freak worthy."

Spike sighed. "Vampires are cursed. Silver repels curses. Thus, it refuses to show an image. A digital camera is electronic. See?"

Xander nodded then turned his head so Spike could see his locks. "Like? Bud decided I had too many stones to do just one braid. He said my hair isn't long enough yet. Right Bud?"

Bud just stood up, staggered a bit, bowed to Spike and wandered out, singing some sort of war like sounding song. Xander just snickered.

"What's with him?"

"He drank most of my share of the beer. Do you like my war locks?"

"Yeah, pet, I do. Sexy looking."

Xander grinned. Then he blinked and asked, "Oh, and did you find the Funky Master?"

Spike gritted his teeth. "No, I didn't. He's moved again. I'll find him, sooner or later. And when I do, I'm gonna dust him good."

Xander just offered coffee.

.

Rupert Giles was sick and tired of being The Watcher. Buffy didn't really need a watcher anymore but the Council insisted that she needed him. She needed keeping track of, he was writing the last in a long series of reports on exactly what Buffy was doing. The last because he was quitting. He'd had it.

His report read: "She's killing demons." And that was all. It was attached to his resignation. His 401k was in very good shape, the Magic Box was doing well and he had an ace in the hole as the saying was. He'd found a rather large cache of jewels during one of their forays into the demon world. He'd kept it instead of turning it over to the Council. Why should they have it? He'd found it. It was his. He'd sold them carefully over the last year.

He was going to work with Buffy still, but on his own terms. Buffy was mature enough now that he felt that she should learn to plan for herself. But he intended to be right there to approve the plans for some time yet. However, he was going to wean her away from her need for him. He was getting older and, frankly, he wanted a life of his own again. He'd never wanted to be a Watcher when he was young, now that he'd done his duty, he wanted a life beyond the Watchers Council.

He'd decided to keep the Magic Box. He enjoyed the interaction with his customers. And he was going to set up as a music teacher. A very exclusive one. He wasn't going to take just anyone. He would only take older students with several years of lessons behind them. He was a very good musician and a good teacher. He enjoyed watching and listening to a good student.

After finishing his book keeping, Giles opened his weapons chest. He needed to sharpen his battle ax and one of the swords had a nick in the blade. He grumbled a bit but set to work after making a note to start teaching Buffy to maintain her own weapons. If Xander could do it, Buffy could too.

While he was taking care of the weapons, Giles tried to figure out how to get a translation without contravening Xander's prohibitions. The real problem with the prophecy was that it seemed to be on human skin, stinky human skin. Giles poked at the problem from every angle. He couldn't find any way around it.

.

Then next day saw Xander up, through the gym and in his office early. He had several translations that he'd promised, and he'd have to hurry to get them done in time.

He settled on the easiest one first and started in. It was in one of the oldest of the Egyptian hieroglyphic hands, but all it was was a love spell. One that wouldn't work without a certain plant that Xander was fairly sure had been extinct for about a thousand years. He wrote it out in his neat shorthand and set the scroll aside for Sylvia to type up.

The next scroll wasn't a scroll at all. It was a clay tablet. He sighed. It stank of old magic and blood. He tipped it carefully to examine the text. It was cuneiform, crudely impressed and half of it was backward. "This guy writes as bad as I do. What ... hmmmm." Xander mumbled his way through the translation of the tablet, adding the note that he was sure that it was a fake. He also advised great caution if the owner decided to try the spell. He set that one aside also.

The next scroll was rejected as being on his 'no-no' list. He wasn't going to bend on this unless Spike ordered him to. He was fairly sure Spike wouldn't go to that extreme unless it was really important. Spike knew he, Xander, would pout for at least two days. And no nookie! Xander wrote for Sylvia to send his standard refusal.

He was just getting ready to pick up the last item he'd earmarked for today when someone knocked on the door. "Come in." Xander gazed at Giles for a moment then sighed. "I know that look. What do you want me to do that I don't want to? And don't try puppy-dog eyes on me. They don't work for Spike, or Willow, so you're completely out of luck."

Giles sighed, polished his glasses and said, "Well,you can't blame me for trying. I really need that translated and I can't even begin. Someone said that you can read that like English."

Xander didn't even touch the scroll. "I can read it better than English. And from what little I've already seen, you really need it. Tell the Council that they'll be getting a huge bill. Huge? Enormous. Stinky human skin? Not on my list at all. I'm going to charge you by the word. Now, scat."

Giles didn't scat, he settled into the visitor's chair and watched. Timmins brought him tea and set another cup on Xander's desk. Giles was a bit amused to see that Xander drank Jasmine. He preferred Margaret's Hope himself, which the valet seemed to know.

Xander ignored Giles, if he wanted to sit and watch him scribble, that was fine.

It took him half an hour to do the translation, cross checking two different dictionaries in the process. He squinched his face up when he had to read English and used a line minder. Never mind that Giles snorted at it. It helped.

"Well, here you are. The translation is in shorthand. If you can't read it, I'll have my secretary type it up for you."

Giles finished his second cup of tea in a swift gulp. "I can't, but if you give it to me, I'll take it to her myself and wait."

Xander nodded, scribbling on a half sheet of paper. "And here's the bill. Don't faint. But don't let the Council short me either. I don't do stinky, human skin for just anybody, you know."

Giles nodded, accepting the papers and the objectionable scroll. "I do realize that, and I'm very grateful. Apocalypse, you know. And I'll make sure the Council pays you every shilling."

Xander nodded, watched Giles leave then called Spike. "I need you. Come now."

It didn't take Spike long to show up.

"What's wrong, pet? Ya sound peeved."

"Giles brought me a stinky scroll. But I translated it anyway. There's an apocalypse coming."

Spike groaned. "Damn, not another. I'm sick of it. Who's going to end the world now? And who do I kill?"

Xander settled behind his desk and consulted his notes. "Ok, open the Hellmouth by sacrificing ... something. I don't recognize this stuff. I know the name and I can translate it. But I don't know what it actually is. The word translates as harpaks, that's Syrian, ancient, not modern. Very near Babylonian. But that's as far as I can go. I've looked it up in several books but they just say amber. I don't get it." Spike nearly snorted his tea. "Ok, so I'm stupid."

Spike gave Xander a filthy glare. "What did I say about that?" Xander just shrugged irritably. "You're not stupid, just lookin at the word from the wrong perspective. Amber, the stone, not the color."

Xander just smacked himself in the forehead. "And it says right there." He pointed at a passage in his neat shorthand. "A ... um ... pound of it. That's a lot, isn't it?"

"Yeah, that much semiprecious stone? Kinda. What are they going to do with it?"

"Toss it into the Hellmouth, along with stinky herbs, incense and ... um ..." He consulted his notes again. "That's all. No blood sacrifice or chanting or anything. Don't think it'll work, but there's no sense in taking chances. I'm not sure when, though. I'll have to get out a calendar and work it out."

"You do that. I'll be preparing for battle."

"Ok, kiss, then go." Spike did as Xander requested and Xander turned to his translation to try to figure out when the 'confluence of water and earth' was.

.

Authors Note: African Violets are propagated by cutting off a leaf and part of it's stem and sticking the cut leaf into a pot of rooting mix. The stem will start rooting and putting out new leaves. I've seen leaves for sale for up to 6.00 a piece. (Way too rich for my blood)


	24. Chapter 24

Ulterior Motives 24

Xander rubbed his forehead in frustration. 'Confluence of Water and Earth.' "What the hell is this?" He'd checked all the references he had and come up blank. He sighed, he was going to have to call in favors from all over. Hopefully someone would know something.

Spike responded to Xander's request by sending out letters to several of his contacts asking about the confluence. He knew that they'd have to wait a while for answers so he continued his preparations for he knew not what.

"Pet, I hate this. Are you sure you can't figure it out on your own?"

"Sorry, tried until my head hurts... nothing. I've searched all my books until I've nearly worn off the print. Spike, I'm tired. I've researched until I just can't any more. I'm not doing myself or you any good by wearing myself out. I'm going to bed. Coming?"

Spike took a really good look at Xander for the first time in three days. He looked terrible, dark circles under his eyes and unshaven for the first time Spike could remember.

"In a few, pet. You go on. Take a bath, a long, hot one. Relax. When's the last time you ate?"

Xander thought for a moment. "I don't remember. Maybe I'll have Timmins bring me something."

Xander left his office, headed for his quarters.

Timmins met him at the door. "Young Master. You look exhausted. I'll prepare a bath and turn down your bed. Anything else?"

"Food,I don't remember when I ate last. My stomach thinks my throat's been cut. And get a message to Master Bruce. I want to step up my training. And I need to tell Sylvia to get in touch with Giles. Music lessons, I forgot about them. I need to apologize to him."

Timmins just nodded. "Very well. Bath. You sit right there and rest. Your bath will be ready in just a few minutes." Timmins went to run a bath, set out pajamas and prepare a tray for Xander, to be ready when he was done with his bath.

Xander settled into the scented water. Timmins always put a few drops of something in the bath. Xander breathed deeply and scooted down in the tub until he was submerged up to his chin. He stayed there until he heard the door open.

"Pet? You asleep?"

"No, just thinking.I'm really worried about this. Buffy's good and she'll probably do this without breaking a sweat, but it's not like Giles to not know something like this. What's going on?"

"Giles is setting Buffy up to be on her own. I think he really doesn't know what this confluence is, but he's making Buffy work on it herself. Which leaves us with the dirty end of the stick ... again."

"Well, I'm all for letting them take care of business themselves. We've done all we can. Apocalypse and what not, not our business anymore. Besides, when have you ever known her to fail?"

Spike gave Xander a worried look. "Pet? Not like you to be so calm about something like this. What's up?"

Xander shrugged. "Somehow my fear button got broke. We either survive this or we don't. I refuse to spend my time worrying about something I can't fix. Buffy's good. Really good. We should trust her to do the job. Help her all we can and just relax."

Spike sighed, sometimes Xander's ability to just accept scared him. "Ok, pet. But I have to admit that I ... it's against my nature, feels like giving up somehow."

"Not giving up. Just ... like I said, not worrying about something we can't do anything about. Now,I'm going to get out before I turn into a prune."

Spike handed Xander a towel and watched as he dried himself. Then Timmins came in with a shaving kit and started making preparations to shave Xander. Spike waited until he was done then held out his hand for the razor. Xander settled in the barber chair in the corner wrapped in a big towel. Spike whipped a few drops of water and the soap into a foam and started brushing it on Xander's face.

"You like being shaved, don't you?"

"Yeah, feels so good. You any good at this?"

Spike laughed softly. "Shaved Angelus often enough. Lazy prat."

"Too bad cutting his throat didn't work."

"True, true, but it annoyed the hell out of him." Xander snickered. "Hold still."

"Ok, but stop telling me stuff like that then." Xander stretched his chin up, baring his neck.

Spike gazed at Xander for a moment then began to shave him. The trust Xander showed, allowing himself to be shaved with a straight razor made Spike's hand shake for a moment.

Xander opened one eye. "Spike?"

"Nothing, pet. Turn your head." Xander obeyed without question, allowing Spike to finish shaving him. When Spike was done wiping the last of the soap off Xander's face, Xander leaned up and kissed him.

"I'm hungry. Timmins promised food. Is there food?" Xander's hopeful look made Spike laugh.

"Of course there's food. Timmins promised, didn't he? Come on. He's got it set up in the bedroom."

Xander sighed happily. "Can I have it in bed? I've never had anything in bed before. Not even when I was sick."

Spike sighed softly, hearing such things made him want to go eat Xander's parents, but he'd promised not to so he wouldn't. "Sure you can, pet. Timmins will bring a bed tray. I'll tell him."

Spike went on through to tell Timmins to bring the promised tray while Xander got his pajamas on.

Xander came out of the bathroom just as Timmins set the tray. Spike held the covers open, Xander slid between the sheets and Timmins set the tray across his lap. Spike settled on his side of the bed and snitched a piece of cheese.

"Hey! Mine! Get your own."

Spike just grinned, he knew Xander would give him anything he asked for, stealing a bit was just fun. And Xander didn't really mind, he knew that there was plenty of everything available on request.

"Just a bite. I'm going to go out tomorrow night. I've still got to find the Freaky Master, as you've been calling him. He's breaking every rule I made. He's making fledges just because he can, and trying to wrest my court away from me. Not that he'd ever be able to run it. I'm tired of cleaning up his messes, or Buffy having to do it. I'm going to concentrate on finding him." Spike stretched. "Now, finish your supper and go to sleep. You look like shit."

"And thank you so much. My ego also thanks you. Ass."

Spike just laughed at Xander who snorted his amusement around a mouthful of cheese and crackers.

Xander soon finished with the food and Spike put the tray on the floor.

"Ready, pet? I think I'll stay up a while but you go on to sleep, I'll just read a bit. Ok?"

Xander grumbled, "Sleepy now. Read if you like. Night."

Spike tucked the covers over his shoulder and settled with a report. He was 'lumbered' with a pile of reports and requests for audience that he had to read. Some of them were over 20 years old. He growled.

.

Giles finally managed to trace down the reference he'd been looking for, with a great deal of help from one of Xander's contacts. A contact he'd made through Spike. Giles growled in a definitely unlibrarian manner and thumped the prophecy with a fist. The Confluence of Water and Earth was simply a good rainy night on the full moon. "Blast! What a bunch of idiots. Wait until Spike and Xander find this out. Spike will go insane. Now what?"

Buffy just shrugged. "Well, we check the weather report and an almanac. You write down all the dates of the full moons for the next... six or seven, months?Then we keep checking around. Amber isn't that common a thing to ship in large amountsis it?" Giles shook his head. "Who do you know that could find out if someone ships that much amber into Sunnydale? See, easy. Not simple," Buffy held up her hand to forestall Giles's remark. "Easy. So, what needs killing tonight?"

Giles had to shake his head at this. He'd been worried that Buffy wouldn't be able to manage on her own, now he was wondering if she needed him at all.

"Just a general patrol, I think. Nothing much seems to be happening just now. Spike has taken care of a great deal of the trouble. Now all we're getting are mindless monsters and plotting idiots. However, they can cause real trouble if they aren't taken care of quickly."

Buffy hopped off the table she'd been sitting on and brushed the seat of her pants. "Ok. Why don't you come with? You look really pissed. You need to work off some aggression. What's with that, by the way?"

"I'm just very tired of the Council of Watchers and their attitude. I've turned in my resignation. I have money now. Between that cache of jewels I found and the 401K I invested in, I'm very well off. The Magic Shop is making money too. So I just told them to take a hike, I believe the phrase is. The wear on my nerves has taken its toll. But I have high hopes of feeling better soon."

Buffy smiled happily at Giles. "That's great. You don't need them telling you how to do things. You tell them. You're smarter than most of them put together and this just proves it. Now, we'll go kill something, have pizza, stop by that new club and listen to some music and check the place for demon influences. Then home, shower, bed. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a winner to me, I'll get my axe."

Buffy smiled proudly at her watcher. It was about time he had a life of his own again. She knew she would need him for years yet, but he needed to let her do the job and just relax a bit more. Dumping the Council of Wankers was the first step. And if they thought they were going to inflict another Wesley on her, they had another think coming.

.

They took the time to stop by Tara's new apartment to see how she was doing. It was late but a light in one window showed that she was still up. She was doing fine, and was glad to see them. She invited them in for tea.

Buffy grinned, "Ok, as long as it's not one of those things that's all pink. I hate those, they all taste the same."

Tara nodded. "Passion fruit. Manufacturers put in it lots of herbals because it's sweet. Then add sugar and ... bleh!"

Buffy nodded back at Tara. "I know what you mean. It's just too much."

Tara fix the pot and when it was done, handed round cups of PG Tips, saying, "So ... tell me what's going on."

Despite the lateness of the hour Giles and Buffy filled her in on everything. She kept tea made and listened, making soft comments from time to time.

Finally, Giles asked Tara what she was planning to do now. He wasn't much surprisedby her answer.

"I'm not really sure. Willow seems to have ... cut me off from so many friends. I don't remember the last time I went to a Wicca meeting, or Latin Club, or ... I used to belong to four clubs, now, I'm not sure. I'll just have to start rebuilding my life." she sighed softly and gazed into her cup.

"Will you come to work for me? I need more help in the shop. I'm being asked to stay open later and open earlier. I could give you about 20 hours a week. And you'd meet people with the same interests as you. In a safe environment. And I could check them out for..."

"Freakiness. And I'll give them the shovel talk. If they're ... um ... your type. If you know what I mean." Buffy grinned at Tara who blushed and ducked her head.

"Thanks. I'd like that. When should I start?"

Giles finished his tea and stood up. "Come in tomorrow morning about ten and we'll fill out the paper work. Buffy's helping too. Between us I can come up with a schedule that covers the store, keeping two people on when we're busiest. If we start getting enough business, I'll put on another person. Too bad Dawn doesn't want a job. But, Joyce doesn't want her working just yet. Her grades are ..." he just shook his head and smiled, Buffy grimaced. The less said about Dawn and her grades the better. Joyce had grounded her the minute she'd seen the grades from the last semester.

"Well, see you tomorrow, Tara. Giles, we need to get going, you look beat."

Giles just nodded and followed Buffy out the door.

.

Spike snarled softly.He was still reading briefs, but now the worst were only ten years old. He'd had his secretary organize them by importance rather than chronologically. He rubbed his face in disgust. The Master hadn't cared for things like this before he'd gone completely insane, the moment he'd been trapped in the mission under Sunnydale, he'd completely quit doing anything except try to escape. Not that Spike blamed him for that, but still, he could have done something once in a while, if only to stave off boredom.

Xander appeared in the open door. "Knock, knock."

"Better not be one of those damn jokes of yours. 'M not in the mood."

Xander pouted a bit. "Just wanted to ask a question and make a comment. But I can always go away and let you stew in peace."

Spike was around the desk with his hands grasping Xander's wrists in a split second. "No! Sorry, pet, it's just that you should see all the ... idiocy I'm dealing with. Comment first, then question. Ok?"

Xander grinned at Spike. "Ok. I really like this collar, didn't think I would but I do. And question. I thought it was supposed to be steel."

Spike looked inordinately pleased with himself. "It is. It was treated with some ... process I don't understand to make it look like gold. Why?"

Xander grinned. "Just curious. Now, why don't you let me see some of this idiocy?"

Spike just tossed a pile of folders at Xander and announced. "You can deal with these, they're all in languages I don't speak. If you don't know them either, put them on the floor. Otherwise, make a decision, or hand it to me if you think it's too important for you. Ok?"

Xander just nodded absently, nose already buried in a folder. "Hmmm. 'S ok."

They worked most of the 'day' and consulted each other on some of the cases. It didn't take Spike long to realize that Xander really had a good mind when it came to making a decision about certain things. Others, he didn't seem to have a clue, since they played to each others weaknesses, it was a good thing.

Xander finally stretched and yawned. "I'm hungry. You want something?"

Spike rubbed his face and sighed. "No, I'm good. I'll just finish up here. You go on and have something. I shouldn't be more than..." Spike counted the files still on his desk. "Half an hour or so. Then I'm going out to hunt the Freaky Master again. Bastard keeps slipping through my net. Fucker."

Xander sighed, this was getting a bit out of hand. Spike spent several nights a week just looking for the vampire they'd taken to calling The Freaky Master, for the lack of any other name. He always just missed somehow. And it was beginning to really rankle.

"Excuse me, Master Spike. I need to talk to you for a moment, if it's convenient."

Spike nearly snarled at the man but realized that he was one of the people working on the gate to the sewers that Xander and he had talked about.

"Yes, what is it?"

"I need to put part of the sewer level off limits for several days. We're going to cut the entrance and the whole area will be dangerous until we get it rebraced and sealed. Then we need to get all the remaining debris removed and do the safety checks. It shouldn't take more than ... a week. We could do it faster but I'd rather not cut the corners necessary."

Spike thought for a second. "Ok. A week it is. I'll write the signs myself and post a notice on the bulletin boards that I'll belt anyone who disobeys me."

The man nodded. "I'll need the signs tomorrow. I'll set up a place just inside the construction area for you. Magic marker?"

Spike nodded. "That'll be fine. I'll see you then."

Spike turned his back on the bowing man and returned to his reading.

.

Xander got up at a reasonable hour the next day and was sad to realize that Spike wasn't in bed with him. Spike hadn't come in at all last night. He rolled out of bed calling for Timmins.

Timmins stuck his head in the door, asking Xander what he needed.

"Just need to know where Spike is. Did he come in at all last night? I don't remember."

"Yes, just before dawn. He went directly down to the new sewer entrance that's being cut. I'm not sure why, but he said to tell you that he'd be late to breakfast."

Xander grumbled softly. "He doesn't have to stay up to eat breakfast with me. I'm ok with his hours."

"Yes, but his consideration for you is a mark of his regard. He's adjusting his hours a bit and you've adjusted yours. It works out well in court also, as the hours cross the line between day walkers and night."

Xander thought about that for a moment. "I see. I didn't think of it that way. It makes sense though. This way we're not dealing with ... um ... people who are either sleep deprived or up way too early. Smart."

"Yes, Master Spike is very smart. He went to ... Yale? Or was it Harvard? Very intellectual at any rate. Now, what do you want for breakfast? I'd recommend something light as you're due in the gym for training. Master Bruce sent to remind you."

Xander decided on fruit, cereal and juice. Timmins had it ready in seconds.

"Thanks. Coffee?"

"Certainly." Timmins poured coffee for Xander and returned to his preparations. Xander hoped he was working on lunch.

"That lunch?"

"Yes, I'm making Shepard's Pie. You like it, it's healthy the way I make it and it'll keep over if you're late. Now, better hurry or you'll be late."

Xander gulped the last of his coffee and hurried out the door. It wasn't a good idea to be late, especially when Master Bruce was going to start a new phase of his training.

.

Spike settled at the small table and waited for Master Bruce to speak, it didn't take long.

"I'd like to begin Xander's next level of training. It's going to be very hard but it'll be well worth it. But I feel it necessary ... and prudent to ask your permission first."

"Prudent, yeah, that's a good way to put it. No one harms Xander, no one." Spike held up a hand to keep Master Bruce from protesting. "I know you're not going to harm him. Just. Well, you know." Master Bruce nodded.

Master Bruce trained in the old way and that could be extremely harsh at times. Xander responded so well to this type of training that both Bruce and Spike saw no reason to use other methods. They were never cruel but Xander would carry bruises for days.

Xander didn't seem to mind much. Oh, he complained about it, but, if he'd ever refused they'd back off, he never did. The boy was much tougher than anyone had ever suspected. He made Spike very proud.

"The boy is good. If he wants to be trained, I'm all for it. Just make sure that you don't do him any harm."

"I'll be very careful of him. You know that. And he's more than ready to move up a level. If you try to coddle him, you'll lose him."

Spike made a face. "I know that. And I want him to have all the training he wants. I just ... hate to see him hurting."

"I'm not too thrilled with it myself, but it's training. He won't thank either one of us for 'saving him. I'll try not to be too hard on him."

Spike just nodded. "I know you're right, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I'm a harsh master when I have to be, but I learned Xander responds so much better to kindness. It's hard, I'm not a kind man. I'm rude and bad and short tempered."

Master Bruce just snorted. "You coddle the man outrageously, and he responds so well. I'd hate to see what happens if you forget yourself."

Spike rubbed his face. "Me too. Well, enough of this. He'll be here soon and I have work. Keep me posted."

Master Bruce just stood and bowed. "I will. You'll see, he's a quick study. Good-bye, sire."

.

Xander realized that his training was going to be hard but he didn't care. He was getting better and better. His weapon work was flawless, Master Bruce said so. Now he was going to be taught hand-to-hand. He was so proud that he'd managed to learn what he had. And he was more than ready to learn more.

"Master Bruce, I'm ready. What first?" Xander bowed with dignity and waited for Master Bruce to explain what they were going to do.

"First, I want you to show me what you know about martial arts. Just do every move you know."

So Xander stood in the middle of the mat, bowed and started going through every move he'd ever seen. Giles had taught Buffy right under his nose for years, he'd learned more than he'd thought. He used quite a few of them in his sword kata, but he hadn't done them without a sword in his hand.

Master Bruce watched critically, cataloging which moves Xander knew well and which one's they needed to work on. He was very surprised by how much Xander knew. Then he wondered why he was surprised, Xander was a very quick study.

Xander waited as Master Bruce stared at him. He didn't feel self conscious about his scrutiny, he'd gotten used to being stared at by now. So he just stood and waited.

"Well, that's very good. I didn't realize that you knew so many forms. But can you do anything with them?"

Xander sighed. "A few. But most, no. I'm ready to learn though."

"I know. You're a very good student." Xander bowed his thanks. "I'm going to show you a kata. I don't think you'll have much trouble with it. Now, we begin."

Xander watched as Master Bruce worked his way through a kata that included all the moves Xander was comfortable with. Xander started out slowly but moved through the kata with some confidence. He had a very good memory, due to having to memorize so much trying to hide his reading problems.

Master Bruce had to compliment him when he was done. "Excellent, you got it right the first time. Very good work. Do it again."

Xander did the kata a total of ten times. By the time he was done with number ten, he was sweating and very tired. But he also felt very good. He'd managed to please Master Bruce and avoid getting even one punishment. Not that he was overly worried about that. Master Bruce knew better than to use a belt. Xander could cope with any punishment but that.

.

Giles checked his phone messages and was a bit startled to hear Buffy telling him she needed him. She'd been doing very well on her own and he'd been contemplating his retirement with glee. But he'd agreed to stay with her for another six months so he opened his weapons chest and took out his favorite ax. He wondered if he should notify Spike that they thought they'd cornered the Freaky Master, after a bit of thought he decided he should. His call was answered by Xander's secretary who said she'd pass the message on.

Giles met Buffy at the address she'd given, which he'd passed on in his message, she smiled at the sight of his ax. "Well, you still swing a bad ax." She snickered at her own joke and missed the flare in Giles's eye. Ripper was getting closer and closer to the surface all the time.

"Come on, Buffy. Let's get in there and take care of this ass so I can go home and have my tea. I'm sick of cleaning up after the prat. And he makes you way too much work."

Buffy just nodded and headed out. Neither one of them saw Xander standing at the end of the street.

He'd gotten the message from Sylvia instead of Spike. Sylvia had said she couldn't find Spike so she'd passed the message on to him. Xander had decided to come see what was going on for himself. He'd stay out of the fight unless it got away from Buffy and Giles. He never thought about notifying Spike himself, he'd told Sylvia to do that, when Spike came in.

Xander gripped his dochi, a walking stick that separated into two short swords, and waited. He never noticed Arnold hovering in the nearby alley.

It didn't take long. He heard fighting, then the sound of running feet. He watched for a moment to make sure that it wasn't an innocent bystander.

No innocent bystander looked like this. The runner was thin, filthy, hollow-eyed and ragged. His eyes glowed yellow and he hadn't bothered to try to hide his demon face.

Xander stepped in between him and his escape.

"I think Buffy wants a word or two with you. Better stay around, it'll make things easier." Xander unsheathed his swords, the vampire sneered.

"Those are steel. You can't hurt a vampire with steel. I'll make you a minion, instead of a fledge."

"Don't think so. I'm already a thrall. Master Spike's thrall, to be exact. So ... come and get it, Fangface."

The vampire charged and Xander just stood and waited for him to come close. The fight was short but hard. Xander dodged the charge, and realized that he really should have brought a stake. He stabbed at the vampire's back, hoping to sever his spine. It didn't work but it put the vampire off his stride. He hadn't thought the human would be strong enough or quick enough to dodge his charge. He took a second to regroup. A second that Xander used to his advantage.

He swept the vampire off his feet with a drop spin kick and slashed at his legs as he flailed for a second, trying to get back to his feet. The vampire managed to kick him in the thigh and get to his feet but with a nasty slash across his calf. Xander had to skip to the side to keep him from grabbing a handful of shirt. That would have been disastrous.

The vampire was more cautious now and Xander knew he had to finish it quickly or he was dead.

With this in mind Xander backpedaled, drawing the vampire into making a mistake. He followed in a rush, instead of beingcautious enough to figure out what Xander was doing.

"That's right. Run, pretty boy, I'll catch you no matter what."

Xander just faked one way, getting the vampire to follow, then spun quickly, pivoting on one foot. This brought him into position to hamstring his opponent in one leg. The vampire screamed in fury and tried to attack, hopping on one leg. Xander dodged a third time, the vampire was obviously so used to his victims just giving up that he was confused by Xander's continued resistance.

The vampire tried one last ploy. "Look into my eyes. I'll show you all the rewards of submitting."

Xander laughed. "I know all the rewards of submitting ... to Spike. That's how you do it, isn't it? You use that trick and make them come to you. Well, it won't work on me. I'm already enthralled."

"Idiot! You'll never succeed in killing me. You don't have a stake. And ..."

Xander moved quickly, while the vampire was still trying to enthrall him. He charged, whipping one sword at the vampire's face and the slashing at his groin with the other. The charge confused him and the slash distracted him from the back cut of Xander's right hand sword. As the vampire dusted Xander snarled, "Decapitation works too, idiot." He brushed the dust away from his shoulder and sheathed his swords. He slipped into the shadows and went back to his truck.

Bud was there, making Xander start. Neither one of them saw Arnold sprint to a manhole cover and drop through it.

"Where did you come from?"

"Where the hell do you think? I'd really appreciate you not doing this again. I really like my guts inside me. Master Spike finds out that you took off on your own, especially to back up the Slayer, and he'll have fits. Big ones. You wanna wind up chained in the basement again?"

Xander sighed, rubbed his face and admitted. "I don't. I really, really don't. I didn't even think. I'm such a Scoobie still. Buffy snaps her fingers and I come running. But I was really more worried about Giles than Buffy. But you're right. I'll have to tell Spike myself. Shit!"

Xander banged his fist on the steering wheel. Bud just gave him a sympathetic glance then stared out the windshield. Xander drove home in a bit more of a hurry than the law allowed.

He made it just in time to have Spike yank him out of the truck.

"What the bloody hell are you thinking? Where have you been?"

Xander just stood and looked at Spike. He decided that Xander-babble was not going to do the job.

Spike ran a hand through his hair. He was furious, he always got mad when he was scared. Xander had just disappeared from the residence without any explanation. Bud had come to Spike and asked where Xander was, Spike hadn't known and neither had Timmins. They'd asked around and Sylvia had told them where Xander was. She'd said that Xander didn't say it was urgent that Spike be given the message. Spike had snarled at her, sending her scurrying away.

"Buffy needed me. I mean, she thought ... she called ... and the Freaky Master nearly got away. Only he didn't."

Spike rubbed his face with both hands. "Dammit! Start at the beginning and tell me everything."

Arnold interrupted, saying, "He dusted your prey. The Slayer drove him out of his lair and Xander beheaded him."

Spike blinked at Xander for a second. "Well, why didn't you say so? Good on you, pet. But the next time you take off without telling me, I'll make you regret it. Understand?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah. ... Spike?" Spike raised his eyebrow. "I'm really sorry. I told Sylvia to get the message to you. I guess she didn't realize how important you would think it was. I'll do better next time."

Spike put one arm around Xander's shoulders. "You better. I don't like being scared like that." At Xander's skeptical look Spike barked. "What? I don't. I get mad when I get scared. And who knows what I might do when I get mad enough. Come on, I'll get us some coffee. And Timmins is going to rip you a new one."

Xander made a face, he hated Timmins' lectures with a passion. Timmins could reduce him almost to tears without breaking a sweat. Instead of cutting remarks or calling him names or whatever he just calmly explained exactly what Xander had done wrong and said he was disappointed. Xander hated that, he'd almost rather take a whipping.

"Man, I just hope he leaves some skin, last time, he left me really raw. Coffee sounds good."

.

Giles beheaded the last of the fledges and chased the ragged vampire toward the door. Buffy was busy in the back of the warehouse, dealing with several minions. Giles charged the door and managed to get through it just in time to see Xander dust the Freaky Master. Giles started to go out to congratulateXander, but Xander was already on his way back to his truck. Giles blinked when he realized that the demon named Bud was just sitting in the passenger seat. He also saw the shadow that was Arnold slip out of the alley and run into the darkness.

"Hmmm, wonder what that's about. Xander better be careful, court politics can be a bitch." Deciding that Xander was capable of taking care of himself, especially with a demon beside him, Giles went back into the warehouse to see if Buffy was done yet.

She was, so they headed back for the Magic Box, discussing the kill on the way. Giles was startled and pleased to see that Xander was very, very good. He started to discuss this with Buffy but she held up a hand.

"I don't want to know. It scares me how good he's gotten. I think I know how Spike is doing it and I don't like it. That's not my Xander, letting himself be ... whatever he is. He's changing in ways I don't like."

Giles snarled to himself. Buffy was going to lose all contact with Xander if she couldn't get her head around his status. "Buffy, Xander is thrall to the most powerful Master Vampire on this side of the Mississippi. He's a power in himself. Please consider how helpful he could be to us. If you don't alienate him. He has Spike's ear, as the saying is, and he can ask for things. Things, favors we need that Spike might not be inclined to give. Think, please."

Buffy shrugged. "Well, if it's that important, maybe you better suck up to Spike. I'm sure I'm not going to, doesn't suit the title of Slayer. Now, I'm tired, I want a shower then a bunchof z's. Night."

Giles just stared after Buffy. She was becoming independent, which he wanted. She was also getting more stubborn, which he didn't. He decided to let fate take care of itself and went into the back of the Magic Box to get some incense, then on home to sleep.

.

Spike fought with himself. His first instinct was to punish Xander until he fell unconscious. He knew this wasn't going to get him where he wanted to go so he pushed the impulse aside. But Xander did have to be punished. He'd broken one of Spike's firmest rules. No going out without Bud by his side. And the other rule, always let Spike know where he was going. But that one, Spike was going to let slide a bit. Xander had told Sylvia where he was going. Sylvia was going to bear the punishment for that, in fact she was being whipped as he struggled with his fury.

Xander just stood and waited with a quiet dignity, unexpected in the over exuberant ex-Scoobie.

"Sylvia didn't tell anyone where you'd gone for nearly two hours, I was already searching for you. She told Bud, he called me but managed to get to you before me because he was out looking, while I was waiting here for word. He called when he saw you stake the Freaky Master. That's the only reason I'm here instead of there. I'm not sure what I'm gonna do yet."

Xander just nodded. Spike gazed at him for a moment then turned to Bud.

"Talk. Where was he?"

So Bud told Spike everything. How he'd come across Xander's truck exactly where Sylvia had said it would be. And watching Xander take off the vampire's head. He gave the opinion that Xander would have stayed right there in the street as backup unless he was really needed. The mad vampire had come to him, not the other way around.

Spike now had a real problem. Xander had actually done what was right, but he'd disobeyed Spike doing it.

Arnold interrupted Spike's musings with more of his annoying prattle. "I told him not to go. I told him he'd be in trouble. I told..."

Spike just snarled at him. He shut up with a rebellious glower at Xander. Xander just raised an eyebrow at him then turned to Spike again. Arnold was really beginning to get on his nerves. He knew that the only reason he was still around was he was such a good mechanic.

Spike rubbed his face then pronounced Xander's punishment. "Six lashes. No court for one month, I'll assign you chores instead. You're also grounded, no going outside for any reason. You'll have lessons still, but double the practice. Go to quarters. Now."

Xander walked away, head high, shoulders straight. He'd wait for Spike in their quarters.

Spike turned to Arnold and announced, "The next time he takes his truck you're to come to me at once, not fuck around trying to decide how much trouble he'll be in. Got me? And watch yourself, you're really beginning to get on my nerves." Arnold nodded, quickly slinking into the crowd of demons standing around watching. "And you lot, take off. Nothing to see here. Git!" They all scrambled to get out of Spike's angry sight. Spike snarled again and stomped off, headed for his quarters and Xander.

.

Xander greeted him at the door with a sad eyed look that nearly broke his resolve. But he stood firm, Xander would obey him, for his own safety, if for no other reason.

"I'm sorry. Really. And I don't expect my apology to mitigate my punishment in the least. But ... um ... could we get the punishment over with so we can go on to the cuddly making up part?"

Spike hugged Xander for a moment. "Yeah, pet, let's get it over with. I'll be back in a second. I got to get my crop." Xander winced. "Rather have a cane instead?"

Xander just shook his head. "Doesn't make much difference. They all hurt. But, if I have a real choice, I'd rather take the cane."

"Not gonna cane ya, or anything like it. You're takin' it calmly, though."

"Not really, but screaming and crying? Not real dignified and won't do me any good, will it?" Spike just shook his head. "Didn't think so."

Spike just told Xander, in no uncertain terms, exactly how stupid he'd been. He lectured him on proper behavior and explained how much damage this could have done to Spike's authority. When he was finished, Xander was nearly in tears.

"I'm sorry pet, but you gotta do better. I can't have ya ignoring rules like that. I'm a Master Vampire and, if my demon decides that you're too far out of line, he'll take over and I won't be able to control 'im, no matter how much I want to. Now, ya got a nasty bruise on your shoulder here."

Spike pushed Xander's shirt completely off his shoulder to look at it.

"I'm fine. Hurts some, but Master Bruce has let me get worse from messing up a form. Stop fussing, come cuddle me and tell me how brave I was."

Spike just sighed, pulled Xander into the bedroom and onto the bed. He carefully held Xander, hugging him.

"You are brave, and loyal and all the things I need in a lover. Understand?"

Xander smiled into the darkness. "Yeah, I understand."

.

Xander woke the next morning and watched Spike sleep for a few moments before he eased his way out of bed and into the shower. His pride still stung a bit but Spike had taken it very easy on him, for which he was appropriately grateful.

He finished his shower quickly and dressed as quietly as he could. Spike watched from under lowered lids. Xander had seemed to want privacy so Spike had granted him his wish.

When Xander was gone Spike rolled over and sighed. It was hard to hold his temper when Xander did such stupidly brave things. He wanted to wrap him up in silk and save him from himself. But that was something that would destroy exactly the things that he so loved about Xander. He wanted all of Xander, not some shell that looked like Xander but wasn't. So he held his temper in iron control. He wasn't about to lose everything along with his notorious temper.

Spike finally got out of bed and ready for his day. He had to check on the sewer entrance today, one of the reasons he was up so early. He was glad that his sleep cycles had always been odd, he didn't need much sleep and he could manage quite well on two or three hours caught whenever he could.

He headed for his office after asking Timmins to bring him some bagged blood, he didn't have time today to go visit the stables, nor the inclination. So he stuck his nose in paperwork until Timmins brought his blood.

"Talk to the boy?"

Timmins just sighed and nodded. "Yes, sir. I did."

"What'd he say?"

"That he was sorry he'd disappointed me and worried you. But that he'd do it again if he had to. Although he did say he'd make sure Sylvia, or whoever, knew to find you and tell you right away. Also, sir, he cried. Poor boy was very upset that he'd worried you. He's in the dojo with Master Bruce right now. Master Bruce was extremely worried. He's working the young master extra hard today, making sure that he can defend himself properly. I think he's going to need a massage tonight. You might want to do it yourself, to prove that you've forgiven him."

Spike nodded. "You're right. I'll do that. And ... treats. He needs a proper treat. Another sign that we've forgiven him. See to it."

Timmins just nodded, said 'Yes, sire.' and left to make his preparations.

.

Xander groaned softly. Master Bruce was really taking a chunk out of him today. He'd set Xander to learn a new kata and it was very hard. Xander knew exactly what Master Bruce was doing but he didn't say anything. He knew he deserved it. He'd worried all the Masters under Spike's rule. He'd never realized how much they all liked him until he'd gotten a dressing down from almost all of them.

"Master? May I speak?"

Master Bruce just sighed and nodded. "Very well. But I'm not accepting any excuses."

"Not offering any. Just want to say that I'm sorry I worried you all. It was stupid and inconsiderate of me. I'll do better. And ... um ... there's that one move about two thirds of the way through the kata. I need to see it done again. Please?"

"Yes. I'll demonstrate it until you get it right. And ... you're forgiven. That doesn't mean that I'm done punishing you ... yet."

Xander just growled and stood up. Master Bruce demonstrated the form and Xander copied him until he got it right. Then he managed his repetitions without an excessive amount of difficulty. Master Bruce only punished him twice and a bit half heartedly at that.

He worked hard and by the time he was done, he was sweating and weary.

"Man, I'm done in. You're a hard master, Sensai."

"I'll be harder on you than ever now. You're moving into a new phase of your training and I'm not about to take chances that you don't learn. Get used to it."

Xander laughed. "I know, I know. I'm just a great big whiner. I'm going to hurt like mad tonight. And Spike is going to want..." Xander flushed a bit. "Well, you know what he's going to want. Wonder if I could get a massage before he shows up."

"Don't bother, pet. I'll do it myself. And ... yes, I'm going to want sex, not that you object."

Xander just grinned and shook his head. "I like it. You're a great lover. Come on. I need a bath and that massage sounds great."

Spike just pulled Xander along by one hand, laughing softly.


	25. Chapter 25

Ulterior Motives 25

Xander got his bath and massage. Spike saw to it that he was totally relaxed, in every way. They slept late the next night and woke just before court was to convene.

Xander ate his breakfast, Spike had toast dipped in blood along with him.

"Ok, that's just gross. How can you do that?"

Spike dipped the corner of his triangle of toast into his mug. "Just like this, pet."

"Eeeuuuwww! Soggy toast is just nasty." Xander waved his hand. "Out of my face with that. It's all droopy an' stuff."

Spike munched on his bite of toast for a second, then what Xander had said clicked. "Soggy toast? Not bloody?"

"Bloody is natural. Soggy is not. Soggy toast is an oxymoron. Bleh!"

Spike had to laugh. "Ok, pet. No more dipping toast. Now... I have to go to court, you're not allowed."

Xander made a woeful face. "I know. I'm really sorry I disobeyed you but ... never mind. We went all over this. Master Bruce gave me some stuff to do and I've got a project that I've been working on. It's a bench to match the clavichord. And a stool for me. When you get out of court, would you like to see them?"

"Sure. Sounds really nice. You do really good work. I don't think I've seen work like yours for ... twenty years or more. I know a few demons, and some people too, who'd love to get their hands on some of your work. Want me to check it out?"

Xander brightened. "Yeah, that'd be great. I don't need money, you give me plenty. But I like to earn my own, I'm getting really picky about the translations I do. If it's not interesting, I'm not interested. And my no-no's have gotten around, so I don't get stinky stuff, black arts, or human or demon skin parchments anymore. Except from the Council of Wankers and I just send them back with a nasty note. I wonder if I burned one and sent them back the ashes, would that convince them? It's an idea at any rate. And I want to take a look at the new tunnel."

Spike sipped tea. "Not much to see yet. It's still more or less just a big hole in the ground. And it's dangerous in some parts. Read the signs."

"Ok. I'll be careful. You better get going, you'll be late."

Spike snorted, "Not like it makes any difference. They're not going to do anything until I get there." He strode out, coat tails swinging.

.

Xander reported to Master Bruce who set him to doing an exercise routine guaranteed to make him regret not being able to go to court. It worked.

"Damn, you really hate me, don't you?" Xander drank half the bottle of water at one go and then wiped his face with a damp towel.

"No, actually, I don't. If you're going to go off fighting vampires, you'll be trained to survive it. Now, again."

Xander groaned and picked up his sword again. "Ok, same kata?"

"No, I'm going to teach you the most advanced kata I know. Get ready."

Xander braced himself for a hard day. His punishment was grueling but fair. He paid attention to Master Bruce's instruction, Master Bruce was even more strict now than ever. Sharp swords and carelessness do not mix.

And Master Bruce now refrained from corporal punishments, he used extra exercise instead. Xander wound up doing over two hundred pushups and crunches during the hours he spent learning the kata.

At the end of the training session Master Bruce gave on last command. "Forty back flips. Then shower. I'll send in Naomi to give you a massage. Where are you going after you leave here?"

Xander drank his forth bottle of water and sighed before answering. "I'm going to the station to work on a project for a while, then I'm going to look at the new sewer entrance. Quarters after that to work on a translation. Forty flips?"

Master Bruce put on his sternest look. "Forty. I don't want you to wind up dizzy from two or three flips. This will prevent that. You'll probably fall after ten or so, just get up and continue."

"Ok. Forty it is."

Xander started flipping. He made it to twenty before he fell. Master Bruce just pulled him to his feet and announced, 'Twenty, keep going.' Xander got his feet under him and went on.

By the time he was through with forty back flips he was shaky and dizzy. He just dropped into a cross-legged seat and waited for it to pass. Master Bruce didn't bother him, he just waited for him to recover. He was very proud of Xander. He'd never seen a human who was so eager to learn and would tolerate his training methods, they were much too rough for most of them. And they broke so damn easily. Xander had now been getting Spike's blood for nearly a year and it showed.

When Xander stopped shaking, he wiped sweat away again and headed for the shower just off the dojo. He knew that, without a massage, he was going to hurt. He was glad that Spike always made sure that there was a someone to give him a massage, sometimes he even did it himself. Today was not one of those times.

Xander showered quickly, scrubbing the sweat out of his hair, grumbling, "Master Vampire Sensei, evil thing. Ow! I'm gonna be so sore."

The two masseuses in the outer room had to cover their mouths to keep from giggling out loud. Xander's remarks, no matter how soft, could be heard by every vampire within twenty feet.

When he was finished showering, Xander just wrapped a towel around his waist and rubbed most of the water out of his hair with a towel. He remembered his war lock just in time. He'd forgotten about it once and given the dangling braid a rather painful pull. He spent a moment looking at it in the mirror. Bud had braided the 4 mm beads into a pencil sized braid, spacing them about two inches apart. He was rather proud of his accomplishment. He'd looked up Bud's tribe and realized that their requirements for warrior were strict but he'd met them all. He stroked the braid and went out for his massage

The two girls were Chinese, tiny and very old. Xander nodded to them, got on the table and waited.

"You will be wanting us to give you moxibustion?"

Xander considered this for a moment. "No. It kinda creeps me out. Fire and Xander not such a good mix. Just a good massage. I'm going to hurt so bad tomorrow. Master Bruce is not pleased with me."

"Ah, you should practice better then. He will be pleased with you if you are diligent in your kata."

"Oh, I'm diligent. It's just, you know me, I put my foot in it on a regular basis. I messed up and Master Spike is pissed at me, so Master Bruce is too. You didn't hear?"

The other 'girl', Xander couldn't convince himself to refer to them any other way, announced, "_We_ do not listen to common gossip. We have much better things to do." She emphasized this with a tiny sniff of disdain.

Xander relaxed as one vampire took one foot and the other one started on a hand. "Feels good."

"Quiet, you! You are supposed to be relaxing, not chattering."

"Yes, ma'am. Quiet now." Xander bent himself to relaxing so he wouldn't be stiff.

The two women worked on Xander, exchanging looks from time to time. Xander nearly dozed off he got so relaxed.

Finally, they patted him gently and got him off the table, suitably dressed and out the door. It was all they could do to keep from at least licking him.

"Very lickable, yes, sister?"

"Oh, so very, very bite-able. Too bad we're not allowed."

"Meh! I have no wish to have my hands severed and reattached on the wrong wrists."

"Me neither. Master Spike is very possessive."

"It will lead to bad things."

"I do hope not. ... We better get this cleaned up."

So they cleaned up the mess and went back to their quarters.

Xander went to his shop in the old filling station.

.

Xander ran his hand over the seat of the guitar stool. It wasn't quite as smooth as he wanted it so he rummaged around in a box until he found the piece of steel wool. He used it, dipped in some linseed oil, to smooth off the last of the slight roughness caused by the joins in the inlay. He wanted this perfect. The pair of bench and stool stood for something special to him.

He spent the next hour working on the finish on both pieces, while the finish on one dried, he worked on the other. He wanted to have at least three coats of old-fashioned lacquer on both pieces today. As he worked, he unconsciously whistled the tune they were working on. He did love making music with Spike and Giles. He thought about what he wanted to make next as he rubbed.

After working for nearly two hours, Xander decided he'd done as much as he could for the time being so he began to clean up his work area. Several vampires, and human servants too, had offered to clean up for him but he liked to do it himself. That way he knew where everything was and he could be sure that his materials were stocked up and ready to be used.

"Looks so nice, pet." Spike sauntered into the room, coat tails swinging gently.

"Thanks. I've finished for the day." Xander caught Spike's hand before he could touch the bench. "Please don't. It's not dry yet and you'll leave a finger print. I was going to add another coat but it's not drying like it should."

Spike drew back his hand. "Sorry. It's not drying right? Why not?"

Xander shrugged. "Don't know. It used to be dry here, but I've been feeling a damp draft. I think that's the problem, in fact, I know it is. I was going to go look for the source of the draft but now that you're here, why don't we both go?"

Spike had to laugh. "Master Vampire here. Huntin' down a draft, not exactly my forte. But we can look into it."

Xander gave Spike a hug then turned towards the door. "Thanks. That draft is giving me fits. Something about it really bothers me. I'm not sure what."

Spike shook himself, the hug had effected him more than he expected. Xander's open, easy affection, aimed at him, always caught him by surprise.

"Well, pet, we'll fix it. Do you notice any smell?"

"No, but that doesn't mean much. I don't have a good sense of smell. Not like yours, at any rate. Come on, this way."

Spike followed Xander who had wet his finger by the simple expedite of sticking it in his mouth. He was holding it up and trying to feel which side was coolest. "This doesn't work as well as the movies seem to think. I don't feel that much difference."

"I never found that trick to be worth the trouble. Got a candle here somewhere. That usually works."

Xander looked interested, he loved it that Spike knew so many interesting things. He vowed to get Spike to tell him stories about the 'olden' days.

Spike found the candle and lit it. He held it up and moved it back and forth until the flame flickered. "There, see? When the flame flickers like that it's in a draft. Now ... I'll just move it slowly over the wall until it flickers again and ... Ha! There it is."

Spike held the candle up and to one side a bit. The flame flickered gently in the small draft. Spike pointed to the area and had Xander poke at the brick until they found the small cracks between the bricks and the mortar that were letting in the draft.

Xander examined the cracks minutely. "Well, I can tuck point it. I think. Or maybe you've got a real brick man somewhere?"

"I'll find out. But what's behind the wall that's making a draft? I think we'd better find out. I'll go get a crew together and see what's what. You go on with whatever you were going to do." Xander opened his mouth to object to being excluded from the expedition but Spike held up a hand. "No, pet, no argy-bargy. I know you are more than capable of handling the job. That's part of the problem actually. I have a whole group of fledges that need breaking in and you're supposed to take a look at the sewer access point and check to see that the job's going to speck." Xander frankly gaped at Spike who smirked back. "See? I do too know the lingo. Made sure to find out what needed to be done. Don't trust those wankers to do the job right, no matter what they say. So go check it out for me, please?"

Xander eyed Spike closely for a few seconds but he seemed on the level. Xander didn't put it past him to pull a fast one, but his clear blue return gazed convinced Xander that he meant what he said.

"Well, ok. I don't like it, but you're right, someone really needs to check up on the work. and I'm the best for the job. Rats! I wanna go with you and kill something." Xander made a face.

Spike nearly fell down laughing. "Alexander LaVel Harris! Ya sound like me. What's got your knickers in a twist?"

Xander laughed too. "Nothing much, I just ... You know, I think it's your blood. It's making me more ruthless ... or something."

Spike nodded in understanding. "It'll do that. And it'll keep ya from aging, not completely, but you'll age about three or four months in a year."

Xander followed Spike as he headed away from the drafty wall and up the stairs. "And it makes me stronger, quicker and I noticed that I heal a lot faster than normal, almost as fast as Buffy. Um ... how long do you think I'll live?"

Spike was tempted to say something like 'until you die.' but he knew that wasn't what Xander needed. "Don't know, pet. Long time. I've heard of some pets that lived ... oh, ninety years or more. You'll probably last longer than that. Don't let's worry about that right now, Ok?"

Xander shrugged, "Sure. Look, you go kill something, you selfish thing, and I'll go take a look at that hole in the ground. Bye."

Spike waved to Xander as he rounded the corner then went to collect a few fledges that he wanted blooded. He decided to include Bud for good measure, if he forbad Xander to go hunting alone he needed to follow his own orders. As Master of the Hellmouth, he had responsibilities he couldn't avoid and as Master of California even less. So he was taking backup along with the fledges.

.

Xander ambled down the long hall. He remembered finding the glowing ball of the portal in one of the rooms along this hall. He shuddered a bit, he hated bugs.

He kept moving, he didn't like to think about the bugs, so this hall always kind of gave him the creeps. If he found another glowing ball he was stamping on it quick.

When he reached his gardens he took a short detour into them, walking in them relaxed him so he took a few moments just to look at plants. Narma stopped him with a question, and he took time to answer, which took a bit.

Xander left the gardens by the back side because it was closer to the sewer entrance. He wanted to look the thing over and be done with it, somehow it gave him a feeling of impending doom. "Probably just the chicken salad." he mumbled when Narma gave him a questioning look.

"As you say, Master. I'll return to the gardens now, some of the orchids need repotting." Narma bowed deeply and returned to his potting, Xander continued on to the sewer entrance.

Xander nodded to Narma and entered the construction zone. He glanced around, looking for a hard hat, and noticed that there were several signs in the blocky print common to construction zones. He didn't bother to try to read most of them, they looked like common warning signs like the 'Hard Hat Area' sign over the rack of hats. He took one, resized it to fit him and went to look for the foreman.

It didn't take him long to find the man. And man he was, human as they come, but he had a vampire assistant. Xander took in the two and sighed, this was not going to be fun.

"Excuse me. I'm Xander Harris, Master Spike's thrall. He sent me to take a look around. So, could someone just give me the quickie tour. I'll be out of your hair in under an hour."

The looks he got were sharp and cold. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He waited until the two had a silent staring match, first with each other, then with him. He gave as good as he got, even with the vampire. When he decided they'd had enough time he just slapped them in the face with it.

"Ok, guys, I don't care if you like me or not. I've got a job to do and I'm going to do it. I've had enough construction experience to know if you're doing the job right or not. I don't intend to get involved in the day to day of it, all I want to do is look stuff over and report back to Spike. Got me?"

"Yeah, we got you. Come on then. I'll show you around. Then you can trot back to your master and tattle all you want."

Xander just got in the vampires face. "Excuse me? Yes, Spike is my master. No, I'm not tattling. I'm doing an oversight on your project. Master Spike doesn't know anything about construction, I do. You got a problem? We can take it to court, if you want." Xander was nearly nose to nose with the vampire who was looking decidedly nervous now. "Or we can take it to the parking lot, except, I don't think you're a match for me. You're too soft." Xander poked the vamp in the belly with one finger.

"You ... you ... You're nothing but a pet! You can't talk to me like this." The vampire sputtered and reached for Xander.

Xander skipped out of his reach, took a defensive stance and waited, nothing much happened except the vamp backed off.

"Better. Now, all I want is a good look at the site and the set up from the entrance. Let's go, get this over and get us out of each other's hair."

So the human supervisor led Xander to the sewer entrance which was now a huge hole in the floor of the corridor. He showed Xander the shoring, the forms and anything else he asked to see. Xander took his time inspecting the whole site. When he was done, he announced, "Well, everything seems to be in order. The concrete mix ordered is the right stuff. All in all, I'm going to give Spike a very favorable report. Thanks for the tour."

All he got was grunt in response, that and a nasty look. He started to say something but decided to just leave instead. He stomped off, heading in the general direction of the new opening. He didn't notice Arnold hovering around.

Xander glared at the small side door, who the hell left art work on an access door? He opened it and entered the construction zone. He had noted with pleasure that the whole area was cordoned off and the actual opening covered with a temporary wall of 2x4's and plywood with a big door right in the middle of it and a smaller walk-in door off to one side, it was that door that he'd just stomped through. Arnold scurried over to read the sign, in Master Spike's own handwriting, "No entry without permission of Crew Chief." Xander had just violated Master Spike's will for the last time, Arnold was going to see to that.

Xander wandered around the site again. This time he saw all the things he didn't get to see the first time around. There wasn't anything wrong with anything, the two site bosses had just had a bad case of testosterone poisoning with a side of pissyness. He made a few notes in a small notebook then left.

He headed for the side door and found it locked from the outside. He kicked it in disgust but refrained from kicking it down, instead he turned around and went into the sewers.

"Wet, slimy, icky, sewer. Why the hell do I do this sort of shit? I should ... Spike is gonna kill me. He's going to be so pissed. Really, really pissed. And why am I talking to myself? ... Oh, that'd be because I know how much trouble I'm in."

Xander was lost, and in real trouble. He wasn't even sure where he was, everything at the entrance was different, he was pretty sure he'd taken a wrong turn just after he'd entered the sewers. He just wasn't sure how to get back to where he was supposed to be.

"I swear I'll never lose my temper again. This is so not good, not good in a really very bad way. Shit!"

This exclamation came from the sight of a fairly large glowing ball. The ball resembled the one Xander had crushed under foot several months ago so Xander approached it with care, but not trepidation. He circled it like a cat, sniffing suspiciously. Nothing jumped up and bit him nor did it smell bad.

He watched it for a while but nothing came out of it so he just stomped on the basketball sized thing and watched the shards settle to the floor. He didn't think to pick up any pieces, he just hurried on his way. Arnold picked up several shards and collected some of the goo from inside it. Arnold had better sense than to actually touch the stuff, he just scooped it into a discarded butter tub he picked up.

After collecting his condemning evidence, he scurried to follow Xander again.

It took Xander another half hour to find a way to the surface, a door into a basement that he actually recognized. He scrambled up the steps and headed back for the residence.

.

Spike paced furiously. He'd come back from the blooding looking for Xander and a little cuddling. He'd found Timmins pacing the living room of their quarters swearing softly to himself.

The actual hunt had gone well. Bud had taken point and they'd moved into the area behind the leaking wall and found that a nest of small demons called Hamark had moved in. They were fairly harmless, unless you had a dog, and had moved along at command. but ... and there usually was a but. They'd fallen afoul of a large nest of F'yarl demons on the circuitous rout back home.

The resultant battle had raged for over five minutes. Five minutes might not seem like long, but when you're fighting for your life it's an eternity. During that eternity Spike lost two fledges, Bud was wounded slightly and Spike smelled Xander where he shouldn't be.

Now he was fuming. Bud was in the infirmary being tended for a deep cut in one thigh and the rest of the fledges were partying. He was not best pleased to see Arnold sidling up to him.

"Master Spike, if I may, there's things I must tell you. Your thrall is disobedient and ... and ..." Arnold gulped and stopped talking, his carefully rehearsed speech forgotten. Spike glowered at him until he got himself back together. "Well, just look. He went into the sewers, completely ignoring your sign. He ... he broke this. I don't even know what it is but I'm sure he shouldn't have done anything to it without checking with you. And he's still in the sewers ... I think."

Spike took one look into the tub and really lost his temper. This was another evidence of disobedience on Xander's part. The memo that had been circulated had specifically said not to destroy the next incursion point. Spike wanted to bring in Willow and a shaman to see if they could find out where the points were coming from which could help them figure out how to stop them.

"So, he entered the sewers, ignoring my sign. He didn't bother to read the memo about destroying the incursion points and he's managed to disappear completely." He whirled, coat tails flaring. "FIND HIM!! NOW!" Spike's shout sent minions and fledges scattering like quail. Timmins sighed, this was very bad, Spike rarely raised his voice anymore. This was a sure sign that his demon had the upper hand and his temper was lost.

The flurry of activity led to Xander being found, out in the alley. Unfortunately he was still a block away from the residence and headed in the wrong direction. he didn't fight the minions who found him, in fact, he was glad to see them and said so.

"Hey, guys, am I glad to see you. I"m so lost it's ridiculous. take me to Spike." Two of the minions grabbed him. "Easy there! I'm coming, no need to drag me."

One of the minions just snarled. "Shut up! Master Spike is in a temper because of you. He said to find you and bring you to him. Bring means exactly that. Don't struggle." Xander just gave up and let them lead him home.

When he was finally in front of Spike all Xander could do was blink. Spike was in battle mode, vamp-faced and pacing.

"Where have you been? I've had people looking for you all over. I thought we agreed that you weren't to go off on your own, not with out some backup. I even took backup with me! You had to have read the signs, they're right on the doors. Arnold saw you ... he saw you ignore my written word. You destroyed something I expressly forbad anyone to even touch. What are you thinking? You think because you're my Chosen that I won't punish you as you deserve? Well, you thought wrong!"

Xander could only gulp and stare. He hadn't ever seen Spike this angry, ever. He started to say something but wound up just stuttering a bit. Arnold, standing behind Spike, just sneered at him.

Spike pulled his belt out of the loops and doubled it, Xander struggled against the hands holding him. "No! Spike, No!"

"How dare you tell me 'no'. I'll show you no." Spike motioned to the two minions holding Xander. They threw him to the floor and each minion grabbed a hand then rolled away from Xander. He was pinned on his stomach, cruciform, helpless. He struggled fiercely and almost won then Spike commanded him, "Do not move! Stop struggling!" Two simple commands, issued in Masters Voice and Xander as incapacitated. All he could do was lie on the floor and wait.

Spike whipped the belt down with a sharp whistling sound, the crack as it slashed across Xander's back made several minions flinch. Xander clenched his teeth, he wouldn't cry out. He wouldn't give his enemies the satisfaction. He endured fifteen lashes that made him feel as if his back was on fire, not that he wasn't used to that, but he hadn't expected such treatment from Spike. Spike knew how he felt about belts.

Spike returned his belt to his pants, panting slightly. "Go to quarters! I'll talk to you later."

Xander dragged himself up from the floor. "My rooms or ours? I just need to know."

Spike thought for a second. "Yours. Don't expect me tonight. I'm too angry."

"Fine." Xander walked to the door to the interior of the residence, making it to the door before he stumbled for the first time. Spike ignored him. Xander went through the door and Timmins met him. The servant waited for a moment then eased one arm around Xander and helped him to the private quarters, Xander stopped him before he could pass the door to Xander's bedroom. "Spike said in here, not his room."

"I'm so sorry, Young Master, I'm sure he'll come around very soon. He was just so angry that .."

Xander cut him off before he could say more. "Not now, Timmins, I'm hurting too much to listen to that bullshit just now. Go get me some of that cream that what's-his-name left. I'm sorry, it's clear up at the service station. Take your time, I'll be right here."

Timmins hurried off for the service station, he didn't realize until much later that Xander knew he'd be held up forever. Spike caught sight of him at once and demanded that he get the court room ready for an emergency high court. Timmins coped as best he could and, unfortunately, forgot all about Xander's cream. Just as Xander had expected him too.

.

Xander levered himself off the bed and rummaged in his closet. All his clothing was in there as there wasn't room in Spikes closet for Xander's things as well as his. So Xander packed a small backpack with two pair of jeans, a few t-shirts and all the underwear and socks he could cram into it. He also rummaged his desk, Spikes desk and both dressers in search of money. He managed to scrape together 200. He counted it and snarled, he knew Spike kept a huge amount of cash in the residence but he'd never paid attention to where it was and he didn't have time to search for it now.

He shouldered the backpack with a hiss of pain, he didn't have time to access the damage now, he'd check for blood later. Right now he had to take advantage of the confusion Spike's temper tantrum was causing and make his get away.

He made it to the garage by leaning one shoulder against the wall and just putting one foot in front of the other until he was there. He opened the key-box with a crowbar and found the keys to his truck. He made sure to check the gas tank before he used the remote to open the door so he could drive out. He snarled, "I begged you no belts." threw the remote against the brick wall beside the door and drove off into the night.

Xander drove for an hour, what direction he didn't care. He stopped once at a quick stop to by some pain relievers, soda and chocolate. At the last minute he decided to by a map. He knew he was making inroads on his cash that he really couldn't afford but it felt good. His head was buzzing with pain and the need to return, the curse was urging him back already.

He got back in the truck and studied the map as he scarfed pain killers, chocolate and soda. He leaned back in his seat and thought hard, made his plans then drove off.

He drove most of the night and made it to San Jose at 8 am. It should have taken him about 15 minutes in good traffic but the hour he'd driven had been in the wrong direction and the traffic had been murder, he'd also had to stop twice just to rest, his back hurt like blazes and the over-the-counter pills didn't last very long. So between one thing and another, the drive had taken over three hours. Then it took him almost another hour to find the bus station.

He locked his truck, leaned against it for a moment, patted it like a faithful dog left behind and walked away. He wiped his eyes with the heals of his hands, wiped his hands on his jeans and went to the window.

"Hello. I'd like a ticket to Denver. How much?"

The clerk glanced at a book, said, "Through Las Vegas?" Xander just nodded. "Ok, one bus leaves at 9:15, takes about 32 hours with one transfer, in Vegas another. .."

Xander just shook his head. "That one's fine. How much?"

"Non-refundable is 186. That do ya?"

"Yeah. Leaves me about thirty dollars. Thanks." Xander accepted his ticket and shouldered his pack, the bus was leaving in ten minutes. He just handed the already waiting driver his ticket, accepted the stub, transfer ticket and folder and found a seat.

He tossed his backpack into the aisle seat and took the window seat. He leaned the seat back and went to sleep, at least asleep he didn't hurt so much. Mentally or physically.

.

Spike rampaged over the court like a steamroller, every fledge and minion that could escaped. Timmins didn't bother to even go, he knew that there was nothing he could do until Spike calmed down. He decided to just get himself some tea and go to his quarters. He drank his tea and went to bed.

Xander was somewhere in a quick stop parking lot, sleeping.

Spike returned to his bed room and tossed his clothing into a corner, flopped onto the bed on top of the coverlet and tried to sleep.

Xander was pulled over in San Jose, trying to find the bus stop on the map.

Spike finally fell asleep, missing the feel of Xander in his arms. Timmins was asleep too, feeling something was off, but his sleeping mind couldn't figure out what.

Neither vampire woke until late afternoon the next day.

Xander was in Las Vegas.

.

Spike rubbed his face and realized that he'd made a bad mistake. Xander had been trying to tell him something, he was sure of that. The expression on his face had been enough to make Spike sure of that. And he was sure Xander had some sort of prohibition about belts, he just didn't remember what.

"Well, I better see what's what. And call Timmins." So Spike levered himself out of bed and went in search of Xander and/or Timmins.

He didn't find either until he tapped on the door of Timmins' room. Timmins opened the door in his shirtsleeves.

"I'm sorry Master, I didn't realize it was so late. I'm nearly dressed, just let me button my sleeves and slip on my coat."

Spike leaned on the door jamb and watched as Timmins made himself presentable.

"Ready?" Timmins nodded. "Good, go make some brekkie for my boy. I'll get him up and we'll see what the damage is."

Timmins bowed. "Very well, sir. I'll see if I can fix some of his favorites." Timmins paused by Xander's door. "Um ... Sir? I don't hear him breathing. Nor any other sound." Spike didn't give Timmins time to say more. He tried the door but Xander had set the lock on his way out. The door was no match for Spike's vampiric strength, a quick twist convinced the door that it wanted to open. Spike pushed it open and hurried into the room.

Xander hadn't made a mess when he packed but a few clues were evident, open, empty drawers, a closet with things tossed on the floor and the dead silence made Spike painfully aware that he'd made a mistake that he was going to pay for.

"Timmins, look for my boy."

Timmins just sighed and shook his head. "He's not here. He ran. Dammit! I should have kept a better eye on him. I should have found that cream and returned here instead of ... Well, fuck."

Spike turned to look squarely at Timmins the vampire was a 'gentleman's gentleman' and _never_ swore.

"Ok. What?"

"He wanted some of that special cream for his back. I never even looked at it, I just went for the cream. You demanded that I get the court assembled, so I did that instead. Then I completely forgot about anything else. I left him unattended. I'm so sorry. I'll accept my punishment."

Spike snarled to himself. It wasn't Timmins' fault that Xander didn't get tended, it was his. "Never mind all that rot. Go look for my boy. I'll search here in case he left a clue. Go!"

Timmins went.

He searched the entire residence, asking anyone he met if they'd seen Xander. Arnold was the only one who said anything out of line. Timmins put him in a head lock and took him to Spike.

"Well? What do you know about my boy? And you'd better 'fess up. I'm in the mood for a spot of torture."

Arnold hung himself with his tongue. "I'm glad he's gone. I spent enough time following him around. All I had to do was wait until the idiot messed up on reading something. That guy never could read worth shit. Then I just gave you the proof you needed to get rid of him. Now I can step up to your side and take the place I was meant to have." He gave a self-satisfied nod.

Spike froze in place for just a second, then he let out a roar of fury that rattled the teeth of everyone near. "YOU WHAT!! I'll ... you ..." Spike found himself reduced to sputtering. He took a deep breath and demanded an explanation.

Arnold just announced that he was ready to take his place beside Spike since Xander had taken himself off to parts unknown. Spike nodded. He had a suspicion and sent Timmins to look in the garage.

"First things first. You knew Xander is my thrall, do you have any idea what a thrall really is?"

"It's just a fancy name for a pet, a slave. Forget him, I'm right here and I'm willing." Arnold stuck his nose in the air. "And I'm much better than he is. I can take anything you can dish out."

"Don't think so, but maybe we'll see. See, a thrall is much more than just a slave. A thrall is ... bonded to his master. A thrall is loyal, brave, my Xander is more than just a slave, he's a companion for the ages. He's smart, he's tough, he's everything I want ... that you are not. You just want the prestige of being my companion, but if something was to put us in the shit, you'd be gone in a second. Xander will be there for me, no matter what. So what the hell did you do with him?" Spike reached out and grabbed Arnold by the front of his shirt and yanked him close.

"I ... I didn't do anything with him. I just waited for him to fuckup and then came to you. As any loyal minion should. He can't read. He's a fuckup, always just one step from tripping on his own feet. You deserve someone better than that loose screw."

"I deserve someone who loves me for myself. Despite the fact that I'm a right bastard when I want to be. As to Xander can't read? Are you insane? He reads at least six languages, demon languages and at least four human ones. All dead, grant you, but still. So what the hell do you mean, he can't read?"

"He can't. I saw him walk right by that sign you wrote. He even called it art. He said, 'Why anyone would put art on that door is beyond me.' Then he walked right through the door. He's an idiot."

Spike eyed Arnold and fumed. "And you just let him go? You didn't try to stop him? Even though you knew he was breaking my rules?"

"Sure, I'm not his baby sitter. I got my own agenda an' it don't include watchin' out for that ..." Arnold finally realized that the grinding noise he was hearing was Spike growling, and it was getting worse with every word.

Spike was about to do something regrettable to Arnold when Timmins came back from the garage.

"Master Spike, Xander's truck is gone. The boy who's night watch was at court then went to bed, so he didn't notice that the key-box had been broken into until I asked him where Xander's truck was. I'm going to go back to Xander's rooms and check his closet, but, for now, I'd say he'd actually managed to run away."

Spike snarled, then threw his head back and howled. He waled like a soul in agony. He was in agony, his boy was gone. He turned on Arnold with a snarl, game-faced and raving. "He's gone ... he's gone and it's your fault. You ... you pillock. You wanker. You unmentionable piece of trash." His language went down the sewer from there. He ranted and raved, blamed it all on Arnold, fate, the weather, anything, anyone but himself.

Arnold, by now, was crouched at Spike's feet hoping like hell that Spike forgot about him. Spike didn't, he ended his rant with, "And, as for you, Timmins!" Timmins approached Spike, literally crawling on his knees.

"Yes, Master. How may I serve?"

"Take this piece of shit and make it regret betraying my boy." Timmins grimaced at the floor, he wasn't that fond of torture. "That's you punishment for letting my boy get away. Before you go, what did you figure out?"

Timmins breathed a sigh of relief, he'd really expected to be dusted for his mistake. "I rechecked the closet. Everything is there, except for some jeans, t-shirts and all his underpants and socks. And a backpack. The money in your desk drawer is gone, as well as all the cash Xander had. That's about 200 or so. He was wearing his work boots, the old ones. Oh, please Master Spike, forgive me my negligence and let me make it up. I'm so sorry, so very sorry."

Spike glared at Timmins for a moment, then snarled, "Oi, ya stupid wanker, get up. Take this piece of shit away and question it. Find out everything it's done to hurt Xander. Report to me when you're done. An' if 'e dusts, tough."

Timmins just grabbed a blubbering Arnold, snarled in his face and dragged him off. Spike never saw him again, nor even thought too much about him.

.

Xander trudged wearily along the street. Las Vegas was huge, he ought to be able to find a job somewhere. He felt awful, his bond kept pushing him to return to Spike, something he wasn't about to do. He knew it should be much worse, the force of the curse should be stronger. He fingered the collar around his neck and mourned his fate. He'd had it so good, until this.

He spotted a sign in a window, it was in Spanish but he could read it well enough to know that they wanted a dishwasher. This he could do. He'd much rather work construction but, if Spike ever figured out where he was, construction jobs were the first places he'd look.

"Excuse me? You need a dishwasher? I'd like the job please."

The man glanced at him then looked closer. "We don't want no junkies or drunks. You drink?" Xander shook his head. "Do drugs?" Xander shook his head again. "Speak any Spanish?"

"Un poquito. But I'm willing to learn. I can read it better than I speak it."

The man looked him over once more. "You'll have to wear a hair net."

"Fine. I'll need an advance or a place to stay. I've only got about twenty dollars to my name."

"This way. I'll put you right to work and you can come home with me tonight. My wife will put you up but if you cause any trouble I'll kill you, got me?"

Xander didn't even blink. "I do. Thanks."

So Xander, the Thrall of the Master of California got a job washing dishes in a tourist trap restaurant in Las Vegas.

.

Spike went to the garage and searched every inch of it. He found where Xander's truck had been parked, he smelled Xander's scent until he entered the truck. Spike continued to sniff, but all he could smell was oil and gasoline. The truck just smelled like a truck.

"Ok, that's a wash. So ... what next? How to track this. Where would he go? Not to the witch, Red's in England anyway. Buffy? No. Giles? ... Yeah, that's where he went. Call ... no, I'll go myself and drag the idiot back. How can he stay away this long? Stubborn idiot, he's got to be hurtin'. I've got to find him."

Spike paced a bit, sensing out the sun. It was still up but near sunset. He would wait it out then go see Giles, he had to at least know where Xander was.

Spike paced furiously, impatient to be gone, to find his ... love. Yes, Spike finally realized that he loved Xander. Soulless or not, he could and did love. He wanted his lover back ... now.

"Master Spike?"

Spike turned to glance at Timmins. "What?"

"I have a report to make. I questioned the ... er ... Arnold. I've kept him alive, in case you should have more questions. This is what I learned. Arnold went to school with Young Master Xander and they didn't get along. Arnold has always envied Xander his friends, his opportunities, anything he had, Arnold wanted. Including you. So he schemed and planned, he followed him around and got him into as much trouble as he could. He's a snitch of the worst kind, only reporting part of what he heard and saw, just enough to get the young master into as much trouble as he could. He doesn't know where he went, has no idea what he's done and I'd just as soon dust him as not."

Spike sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "Fine, I don't care. I just want to find Xander before the curse floors him. He'll be hurting bad soon. It's all his fault. I should ... dammit!" Spike kicked a nearby wrench and watched as it flew across the room to punch a hole in the roll up door.

Timmins just took his unlife in both hands and announced. "Master Spike! Don't dust me until I'm done, please."

Spike glared at him. "I'm not gonna dust ya. I said already. So speak up."

"It's your fault Xander's gone and no one else's. He's got a thing, I believe you call it, against being beaten with a belt. If you remember, he even told you once that, if you belted him, he'd run. You did and he ran."

Spike froze, remembering the conversation. He'd completely misunderstood what Xander was saying. He'd said one thing and Spike had heard another. He let out a soft whimper and collapsed to his knees, keening softly. "My Xander ... My boy ... My love. Find him. Find him."

Timmins glowered around but found that all the faces looking at them only showed upset and concern. He lifted his master to his unsteady feet and led him into his quarters, whispering soft words of comfort as they went. He managed to get Spike into bed and turned out the lights.

"Go to sleep for a while. I'll see what I can find out. I'll call the Watcher and ask him if Xander's there. I'll try everything I know how to find him. Sleep awhile."

Spike just pulled the covers over his head and moaned. He was devastated by the realization that he was the one responsible for Xander running off.

Timmins made a call to Tara, who agreed to come at once. The next call he was dreading a great deal, he wished he could put off the call to Giles but he knew better. This call was the unmitigated disaster he was expecting, Xander wasn't there and Timmins had to tell Giles that he'd run off. Giles did not take the news at all well but he just said he'd be over as soon as he could. The tone of his voice was calm, overlaying a fury that even frightened Timmins.

Giles hung up the phone and calmly packed a small bag. He made arrangements with The Order of Taraka to pack up the rest of his things. They'd asked him to become one of Spike's advisers and he'd been considering it, now he was sure. He'd take the job. Buffy really didn't need or want him anymore and he could do much more good working for Spike. After he kicked his ass, that is.


	26. Chapter 26

Giles stomped into Spike's bedroom and yanked the covers off him. "Get up, you wanker! Out of that bed! Now!"

Spike tumbled to the floor and glowered up at Giles, without much effect. It didn't help that Spike was naked and hung over, as opposed to Giles who was wide awake and dressed in jeans, motorcycle boots, t-shirt, and an unbuttoned flannel over shirt. Ripper was firmly in control.

"Oi, got a hang over here. Boy's gone. I fucked up, an' he's gone. Can't find him."

"Oh, for the lord's sake, sober up and think. Come on. Get up off the floor."

Giles grabbed Spike by one arm and dragged him to his feet. The vampire could only moan as his hangover kicked into high gear. Giles pushed Spike into the bathroom and straight into the shower. He turned it on full blast, and ice cold.

Spike screeched like a scalded cat and tried to get out, Giles shoved him back in. Spike spluttered and swore. Giles swore right back, ending, "And I will most assuredly kick your bloody arse, if you don't sober up, dry off and get your head out of self same arse. Come on." Giles dragged Spike out of the shower, tossed a towel in his general direction and stomped out.

Spike dried off, got dressed ... in black everything and went to find Giles. He found him in the kitchen with Timmins. When he walked in the door he was met with twin laser-sharp glares.

"Don't look at me like that."

Timmins just made a sound that was suspiciously like a snort. Giles just snarled, "I'll look at you any way I like. Here." He shoved the scroll from the Order of Taraka across the table to Spike and took a cup of tea from Timmins. Spike picked up the scroll and started to read it. He groped for his expected cup of tea, but found nothing. He peered around the scroll then asked Timmins politely if he might have a cup of tea.

Timmins didn't say anything to Spike; he just slapped a mug on the table. Giles snickered rather obviously into his delicate china cup. Spike just picked up the mug and took a gulp. He nearly spit it back into the mug. It was over-brewed and much too sweet, as well as, as close to boiling as Timmins could manage. He swallowed a bit thickly, wishing he could turn time back by twenty-four hours.

"I've sent out flyers, and I have a team of human-looking demons tacking up posters on telephone poles and asking shop owners to put them in their windows. I don't think it's going to do much good though. I get the unhappy feeling that Xander's left town."

Spike threw back his head and howled. Giles gave him a disgusted look, slapped him and snarled, "Oh, shut it. You fucked up and now I have to mop up the mess. In case you don't understand that scroll, let me make this very clear, I'm your new adviser. Courtesy of The Order of Taraka." Spike rubbed his cheek, started to say something and was cut off by his new adviser. "For Xander's sake, don't start on me. You're so out of control, it' shameful."

Spike got up, paced the kitchen for a few moments then sat back down. "Ok, I made a right mull of this. I'll have some extreme groveling to do when we find Xander ... an' I will, believe me. No matter how worried or scared I was, or how mad, I knew better. I really did, but my demon wants to claim Xander so badly that ... well, that's neither here nor there." Giles blinked at Spike, for a moment he sounded more like a young lord than a scruffy street thug. In other words, he sounded like the Oxford educated man he was. "What? I'm Master of California, I can't sound educated?"

Giles rubbed his face. "No, I'm just surprised that you're ..." Spike raised a haughty eyebrow. "Never mind. We have to figure out how to find Xander."

"I'm thinking that we should contact Glinda. She'll know how to go about it if anyone will."

Giles held up his cup for more tea with a puzzled expression on his face. "Glinda? Who? ... Oh, you mean Tara Maclay? She's disappeared."

"No, she's just gone to ground until she's sure that Red has decided to leave her alone. Red was messin' with her memories and charmin' her, and not in the good way. I'll send Bud for her. She likes him and if I tell her it's about Xander she'll come right away."

Giles smiled his relief. "That's wonderful. I was worried about her. I wish she would have contacted me. I saw her at court once, but I haven't heard from her since. I was aware that Willow was out of control, but I never expected her to do something like that. Will you get in touch with her now? The quicker we start the less head start Xander has."

Timmins handed Giles a phone. "Miss Maclay is on the line."

Giles took the phone with a soft 'thank you'. "Tara. Young lady, you've had me very worried. No, no, don't apologize. I should be apologizing to you. I should have been more aware of what Willow was up to." Tara's murmur was unintelligible. "It doesn't matter, she was my charge, too. Buffy was using her talents. Listen, please. Xander's missing. I'll tell you everything when you get here. If you'll agree to come, that is. Yes, Spike will send ... Bud, was it?" Spike nodded. "Bud. If that meets with your approval."

It seemed that Tara was well aware of who Bud was. She agreed to come with him as soon as he could get there. She asked several questions so that she could decide what equipment she might need, and Spike told Giles to tell her that she could have anything she wanted including his left nut, if it would help find Xander. Giles relayed the message and chuckled at Tara's 'Eeeeuuuwww!!'.

After closing the phone and handing it to Timmins, Giles turned to Spike. "She'll be here as soon as she can. I get the feeling she's packing up her belongings and moving in here. You'll have appropriate quarters, correct?" Timmins just nodded, without even looking at Spike. Spike nodded too. "And, as Master of California, you have obligations to carry out. Have you been seeing to them?"

Spike thought, blinking slowly. "Yeah, gits from all over have been coming here. I'm gonna have to relocate soon. Was just putting it off 'cause I'm comfy here. I haven't really even decided where to move to. You got any ideas, Mr Adviser?"

Giles shrugged, glared at his again empty cup, and said rather snidely. "Somewhere in the middle of your domain would be nice. Other than that, no."

Spike sighed. "Gonna make me work for it, yeah?"

"Yes, I'm going to make you struggle for every millimeter. You deserve it. You can't go around exploding like cheap fireworks every time something doesn't suit you. You'll lose more than a play toy if you don't get a handle on your impatience."

Spike started to say something indignant, changed his mind and buried his nose in his mug instead. He mumbled, "My boy's not a play toy. Wanker."

Giles just looked grim, accepted refill of tea from Timmins, sipped at it and thought. This Xander was a mystery to him. Gone was the babbling boy, insecure and shy. In his place was a man. A man who was not going to back down, no matter the cost. They had to find Xander before the thrall spell could do too much damage. Giles wasn't even sure how Xander managed to run away at all. He'd have to think about this, maybe even do some serious research.

Tara packed her clothing, not that she really had much, stuffing it and her bedding into her trunk. She packed what wouldn't fit the trunk into her big suitcase and put her books and some trinkets into a box. She was ready to go in less than fifteen minutes. She smiled a bit sadly; her life, it seemed, could be packed in less than four cubic feet of space.

The knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts, and she hurried to answer it.

"Ma'am, ready to go?" Bud smiled at Tara. He liked the human girl, her kindness showed in every expression.

"Yes, thank you. Can you tell me what is going on, exactly? Giles outlined it, but I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do."

Bud picked up the trunk and hefted it to his shoulder. He grabbed the suitcase and walked out the door, calling over his shoulder, "I'll tell you everything I know on the way to the residence. Got your box?"

"Got it. I'll just lock the door and hand my keys to the super."

"You going to be ok? Leaving like this isn't going to ... violate your lease contract?"

"No, I'm renting week to week. I didn't like the apartment as much as I thought I would. It's ... lonely. I found a different job and stuff ... to keep away from Willow, and I really miss my friends more than I thought I would. I'll be glad to move into the residence. It's all right, isn't it?"

Bud tossed Tara's trunk into the back of the truck, causing her to wince slightly. She put her suitcase in herself as well as her box. She gave Bud a slight glare and he returned an apologetic grimace.

As he drove, Bud filled Tara in on as much as he knew, ending, "And so, Xander took off. Master Spike is beside himself, as is most of the court."

"What happened to ... um ... Arnold?"

"You really, really don't want to know. Believe me."

"OH, he's dead. That's too bad."

Bud shook his head. "Not dead, but he wishes he was. The Ladies have him right now."

"Ok, I'm not asking."

"I'll just say ... a pissed off Chinese masseuse, four hundred years old or so mind you, is not someone I want mad at me."

Tara shuddered and settled into her seat to brood for the rest of the ride.

Xander spent the night with his boss and family. It was nice, a bit rowdy, and loving. The lady of the Pena house was fondly called Mamacita by every one. She greeted Xander's addition to the table with a smile and the offer of coffee and a sweet roll. He accepted and sighed at the jolt of caffeine, she made her coffee in a Chemex, spooning the hot water in a quarter cup at a time. He eyed the hourglass-shaped Chemex with glee-- good coffee in the morning.

"You don't sit there and look at food, you eat it. Eat, eat." Mamacita patted Xander on the shoulder, making him flinch. "What is it? Are you hurt? Where? Show me!"

Xander started to argue, but gave it up as a bad job when Mamacita just tugged his shirt off over his head. Dealing with her own sons had taught her that taking charge right away was the only way to get anything done with recalcitrant males. She glared at Xander's bruised back and announced, "I won't ask questions, it's none of my business. I've got a salve." She bustled off the get the salve, and Xander just put his head on the table and sighed.

Mamacita came back and laughed at his dejected posture. "You look like you lost your best friend."

"I did. Senora Pena, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but I'd really rather not talk about it."

"That's fine. I'll help you find a place to stay tomorrow. You don't have to be treated that way by anyone. Remember that."

"I know, that's why I'm here instead of there. If he shows up, which I doubt, he's got a lot of making up to do. I'm not putting up with this sort of stuff, no matter who he thinks he is."

"Good for you. And, if you can't see calling me Mamacita, call me Angelina. Yes?"

Xander sighed in relief as Angelina smoothed the salve across his bruised back. "Thank you, ma'am. That feels a lot better. Um ... if you don't mind, I'd like to take a nap before supper."

"Sure, you go, take a nap, I'll have Estrella show you your bed."

Estrella turned out to be the youngest daughter of the family, at thirteen she thought she was grown up. Her flirting just made Xander grit his teeth.

"Here you go. The room's small, but it's clean and quiet. Have a nice nap." Her expression said that naps were for wimps. Xander just hit the bed and was asleep before she could get the door closed.

Senora Pena called her husband into the kitchen and glared at him. "Why you bring that one to us? He smells of demon, he's got a double warlock, and ..."

"But he's so sad. I feel it. His soul is crying. We have to help him."

Senora Pena threw her hands in the air. "Fine, fine. We help him. But how?"

Senor Pena shrugged. "For now, we give him a job, find him an apartment nearby, and watch him."

So, when Xander woke, he was treated to a meal then sent back to bed to sleep the night through.

The next day saw him learning how to wash dishes.

Spike paced and snarled. Tara read her books, took notes, examined Willow's notes and worried. She couldn't decide who she was angrier at, Spike, for making Xander run, Xander, for running, Willow, for starting this whole thing, or herself, for not realizing what Willow was up to. She tossed the book she was reading at the wall and flopped back in her chair, huffing her agitation.

"Tara? What's wrong?" Giles entered the room, carrying a small tray with two cups of tea and some cookies on it. "Here, chamomile Would you like to talk about it?"

"No, but I need to. I can't believe that I managed to miss what Willow was really up to. But ... do you suppose one of the spells she used on me was so that I wouldn't realize what she was doing with her magic?"

Giles sipped at his tea for a moment. "Quite possibly. What I'm wondering is how Xander has managed to resist the compulsion to return to Spike imposed on him by his thralldom. It has me quite concerned."

Tara sighed and took a rather inelegant swallow of her tea. "Well, he is still wearing his collar, it has protections cast on it, and the beads in his warlock are all imbued with protections as well as being protections themselves. Do you remember all the spells we cast on them? I don't, there were so many."

Giles nibbled absently at a cookie while he thought about Tara's question. "Hmmmm... not really. I have notes somewhere in my apartment. I'll send someone ... or go myself. Depends on Spike. He's about mental."

Tara nodded. "I know. But can you blame him? He drove Xander away. Now he can't understand why or how Xander's managing to stay away. He's a vampire and his demon wants it's ... um ... well, you know."

Giles just sat thinking and eating cookies.

Xander washed dishes, cleaned tables and swept up. He wore a hair net rather than cut his hair, but he wasn't the only one in the restaurant that wore one. Some of the waiters from Mexico and further south had braids down to their waist. Xander didn't stand out at all.

When he was done with his first day's work, Mr. Garcia, the maitre d' came back to the kitchen and called him. He walked wearily over to see what he wanted.

"Senor Pena told me you needed an apartment. My building has three open. Senor Pena knows the owner, and he can get you in without a deposit. That's because he'll stand good for it, so don't let him down."

Xander just shook his head. "I won't. I'm a pretty reliable person, usually. I just got socked in the face with a bit of ... never mind. I'll be ready in a sec. Ok?"

"Sure. I'll be right here." Mr. Garcia wondered what fool had put that tragic, sad look in the young man's eyes.

It didn't take Xander long to shed his paper hair net and wash his hands. He returned to Mr. Garcia and followed him out to his car for the trip to the apartment complex.

The super met them with a smile that revealed several gold teeth. "I got keys right here. Come on. First one's on the ground floor. Nice, 800 a month. No guests, if you know what I mean."

Xander paled at the price and didn't even glance at the elegant, furnished apartment. "Can't afford that much. I'm just a dish washer. What have you got in something a lot cheaper?"

"Got one in the basement next to mine; it's a bit damp, but a dehumidifier will fix that. It's about, well, I'll let you have it for 500 a month, less if you fix it up and help me around the complex. You any good at fixin' things?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I know my way around a hammer. But 500 a month is still a bit pricy for me."

"I know. But that's just what I'll show on the books. I'll pay you the going rate per hour for construction work. And I keep fair track. I won't short you. Okay?"

Xander shrugged. "Let me see it before I decide."

So the super led Xander to a small basement apartment: one bedroom, galley kitchen, the bath room was tiny, but spotless. He glanced around at the furniture and nodded. "Ok, I'll take it. Senor Pena will make arrangements for you to get first, last and damage. I work for him."

"I know. Mr Garcia called me from the restaurant. You got personal stuff? Heard you was on the run from someone. You don't bring trouble here, you understand?"

Xander nodded. "My lover turned out not to be who I thought he was. I'm ... um..."

The super held out a hand. "Mr. Jones. I don't care who you fuck as long as it isn't my wife." He grinned, and Xander shook his hand.

"Okay, I'm off the market anyway. I just want to do my job, keep a low profile, and be left alone."

Mr. Jones just shrugged and handed Xander the keys. "Here. We got a pool, closes at 9pm, no exceptions. No loud music, no pets, no moving in your 'cousin' Pete. Not that that's going to be problem with your attitude. No offense."

"None taken. I've got to get some sheets and stuff. I ... I've got about six dollars in my pocket right now. Got any ideas?"

Mr. Jones smirked at Xander. "Fully furnished means exactly that. This apartment has linens. But you're responsible for replacing anything you wear out or whatever. Good night."

Xander said good night to both Mr. Jones and Mr. Garcia. He closed and locked the door then went into the bathroom with his pack. He'd been a bit embarrassed when he'd had to ask Mr. Garcia to stop off at the Pena place to get it, but he'd just shrugged and said it wasn't a problem.

Xander opened the pack and dug out his things. He put everything away and realized that he was going to have to spend the major part of his check on clothing and sundries. He had enough shampoo and body wash to last a while, but he was almost out of deodorant and toothpaste. He sighed; he missed Spike with a hollow feeling in the middle of his chest. It hurt, and he knew it was only going to get worse. He wasn't sure how long he could hold out, but he was going to give it the best he had.

Xander settled into the clean, dry bed and meditated himself into sleeping.

Giles worried about Spike; the vampire was beside himself with grief and fury. He paced a lot, demanded hourly updates on the search for Xander and had dusted or killed every 'person' who'd suggested that he wouldn't find Xander. Giles didn't blame him for that particularly, but it showed his state of mind.

Giles finally sat him down for a talking to. It went down fairly well, once Spike finished snarling at him. The remark about the Order helping find Xander was the clincher.

"Don't need no help from them. I'll find him meself. Dammit, where the hell did he go?"

"I don't know. I would have thought that the thrall spell would have forced him to come back by now, but Tara thinks the protections spelled into his collar and the gem beads in his warlock are helping him, to some extent at least. My opinion is that he'll be forced to return sooner or later, probably later, but it would be better for everyone concerned if he came back sooner."

Spike nodded rather absently; he was trying to figure out where Xander might have gone. Suddenly he announced, "Construction! That's the ticket, construction jobs. He'll go somewhere he can get a construction job. Where's there a lot of construction within ... oh, two days drive? And that truck of his is distinctive, and I've got the plate number. I'll put out an APB to everyone in my domain to look for that truck. What else? Something ... just off the edge of my mind. Giles?"

Giles sighed, polished his glasses and thought carefully. "I think the key is Xander's truck. He loves that truck. Find it and we'll find him. And APB? Where did you learn that term?"

"Cops. Xander loves Cops, and any other cop show on. I've spent hours watching with him." Giles watched Spike as he forced himself to be calm. "So ... APB on the truck, I've even got a picture of Xander leaning on the damn thing. His hair's longer now, but it's a good picture. I'll have it copied and a flier made out. Can you think of anything else?"

"No. Don't forget that you're supposed to meet with the Master of Louisiana. Do you have a present for him? You should give him something nice."

Spike snarled. "No, I don't, I completely forgot about him. What the hell should I give him?"

Giles shook his head. "No idea. What would a vampire like him want?"

Spike just sighed and called for Timmins.

The valet showed up quickly. "Sir called?"

"Yeah, Master of Louisiana. I need a gift for him, but what?"

Timmins grinned, a very evil one. "Well, there's always Arnold. I could clean him up and give him his hearts desire."

Spike looked like he was going to explode, calmed himself and asked, "And why would you want to do that ... oh, and also, why the hell isn't that wanker dust?"

"We were going to dust him after we all had some fun with him. But his heart's desire has been to be someone's pet. The Master of Louisiana has just lost his last one. Went mad, I believe. Of course it took Master Robinson seventy years to do it."

Spike just grinned. "There's lots of harness that I thought was a bit rough for Xander laying around. Help yourself to whatever you want." Timmins bowed and left to prepare Master Robinson's present.

Giles gave Spike a feral grin and announced, "It's time I made my debut at court. I'll go change."

Spike just shrugged. "Suit yourself." He attended court in whatever he happened to be wearing when court convened, unless he had a point to make. In this case the point was, he didn't give a damn who this vampire thought he was, Spike was more important, more powerful and much more impatient.

He headed for court just as he was and plopped down in his chair; Giles joined him very shortly after. Spike grimaced, Giles was wearing what Spike referred to has his "Garage Punk" outfit. Spike checked twice to make sure that he saw what he thought he saw. He did, Giles was carrying a gun.

"My, my, Watcher, getting' a bit on the violent side, are we?"

Giles gave Spike a bland look. "Please don't get the idea that I like you very much. The Order offered me a job, I took it. That's all. Part of my job is seeing that you don't get assassinated."

"Bullets won't stop a vampire."

"They'll stop quite a few demons though."

"True. Well, let's get this show on the road."

Spike signaled and the doors were opened. The Master of Louisiana was a small man when he was turned and even smaller by today's standards. Spike wondered how he'd managed to survive in a Southern state, black as he was.

The Master obviously had been faced with this question before. "I was born in the bayou, way back in a swamp. I was vamped when I went to New Orleans. Madame LeBeau sheltered me for years." He chuckled a bit. "My blood kept her young way beyond her years, so she took very good care of me. Yes?"

Spike was grinning at Master Robinson. "So, you clairvoyant, or just had the same stupid question asked over and over."

"Same question over and over for a hundred years and more. We going to talk business, or stand around and chatter."

Spike laughed. "Bring Master Robinson a chair. We got business to go over."

Timmins brought a chair, bowed slightly and set it down. He motioned to another vampire who stepped forward to place a small table at his elbow and put a glass of warm blood on it. Master Robinson nodded his thanks and took up the glass. He sipped smiled slightly and settled back in his chair.

They discussed matters until Spike was ready to tear his hair out. He didn't care about any of the things that other masters worried about. Giles finally took pity on him, summarized the requests of the Master of Louisiana and asked Spike if there was anything that he objected to. Spike listened carefully to Giles, shook his head and announced, "I don't think that Master Robinson asking permission to travel through my territory is unreasonable as long as he offers me the same courtesy. I don't deal in drugs or arms. I won't give him permission to move large quantities of either through my domain. Any other requests will be decided on case by case." Spike glanced at Giles, who nodded slightly.

The Master of Louisiana just sighed his relief, nodded his head, and requested their agreement be written up and sent to him; he would sign it and send it back. He was glad that Spike was willing to be reasonable. The last active master had charged a toll, a rather exorbitant one at that.

"Thank you for your kind attention. I'll take my leave." He stood and bowed slightly. As he was in Spike's territory, he bowed. If Spike had been in his territory, he would be the one bowing.

Spike stood, dipped his head, and motioned to Timmins. "If you will follow my servant, I have a small token of my esteem. I understand that your pet became ... unsuitable. I have a new one for you. He is untrained, treacherous and a bit stupid, but I think you'll find him eager to avoid punishment." Spike gave his fellow Master a sly smile. "And I'm sure you'll enjoy breaking him to hand. Good evening."

Master Robinson followed Timmins out of the room and into the foyer where his present was waiting for him.

Arnold had schemed and plotted to be Spike's pet, his consort, anything at all. Now he was going to be the pet of the second most powerful and influential Master in North America. But he wasn't very pleased about it. The plug in his ass was huge, and the gag made him drool. The other straps, chains, and locks added to his discomfort and dismay.

"I see that he is very unruly. Good, I like them ... fresh. Is he tough or tender?"

Timmins bowed carefully. "I'm sorry, Master Robinson, I'm sure I couldn't say. Master Spike found him annoying, so he's being given to you. He seemed to want to be someone's pet. Master Spike felt that it would be good for all of us if you took him. Please, don't feel that you need to be cautious; he is a true present. Enjoy."

Master Robinson smiled, not a good one, and took the offered leash. He tugged on it and Arnold squealed behind his gag, which earned him a firm swat on his naked backside with the loop of the leash. "Did I ask for sound?" Arnold took one look at his new master, shook his head, and scrambled to follow without pulling on the leash.

Xander sighed. He felt bad, not really ill, but not well either. He knew it was the thrall spell trying to force him back to Spike, and he resigned himself to feeling like this for quite some time. He went back to work.

He was washing up after the breakfast rush. He'd never really thought that there would be a breakfast rush in a Mexican restaurant, but there was. The resultant dishes needed washing before lunch. So he washed piles of plates, cups, bowls, and cutlery, by hand. It seemed that the Pena family didn't believe in dish washing machines.

Xander turned at the sound of a throat clearing. "You ready for a break?"

Xander pealed off his black rubber gloves, wiped sweat off his forehead with a paper towel, and nodded. "Past ready, into begging." Jose laughed, and handed him a glass of ice tea. "Thanks. What's next?"

"Mop the floors and then prep. Chop onions and what not. I'll show you." Jose showed Xander where the mop and bucket were and disappeared into the depths of the freezers.

Xander sighed and started filling the bucket with water. He was already tired, and it was only 11am. He'd take a quick break as soon as it was full.

Spike walked through Xander's gardens, smelling flowers and mourning. He missed Xander more than Angel even. He wanted Xander back. All he could think of was how to find him. He wasn't having much luck; demons of all sorts were coming forward with information. This information put him everywhere; as far north as Milpitas or Fremont and as far south as San Jose. He had people looking in both places and everywhere in between.

Narma approached Spike and bowed. "Please Master Spike, I don't know what to do. Young Master Xander told me he'd pot all the plants himself, he enjoyed it so. But things need potting, so should I pot them, or wait for him to come back?"

Spike ran a hand through his hair, completely disarranging it. "Repot what ever needs it. There's no telling when Xander will be back. Stubborn, hard ... never mind." Narma just gave Spike a hard look, bowed and went to repot the plants.

Spike walked farther and entered the Japanese garden with its waterfall and koi pond. The fish were glad to see him. They swam up to the feeding spot and gaped at him, waiting to be fed. Spike did so, dipping feed from a large bowl on a pedestal nearby. The fish gobbled the food and after begging for more, swam away again when it wasn't offered. Spike would have fed them more, but Xander had fussed at him for spoiling them the last time he'd overfed them.

Giles found him just as he was going into what Xander called the Monet garden, shook his head and left again. Spike had asked Xander why he called it that, and Xander had led him to the huge shallow water feature filled with lilies. "Like that garden he was so fond of painting. I'd really like to have a good copy of that one painting that's all green lily pads and pink flowers." Spike could hear Xander's voice as clearly as if he was standing right there.

He rambled on, looking at the peaceful place Xander had created. He sighed again, and went back to the gate, climbing the stairs he headed for the old gas station. Xander's wood working was another thing Spike hadn't paid enough attention to. Maybe there would be a clue there.

He wandered rather than walked, looking around at things that Xander saw every day. He entered the station and really looked at all the arrangements Xander had made to see that he, Spike, was comfortable there. The sliding shade over the skylight, the chair in his work area, the small fridge with snacks he liked. It was all too much. He sat down in the chair and wept, no howling now, no raging, just slow miserable tears that tracked down his face and dripped off his chin.

He cried for a while, but finally calmed himself. All this whinging wasn't getting him anywhere. He stood, dried his eyes, and started searching. The sight of the matched stool and bench nearly set him off again, but he took a deep breath and searched on.

He found a handful of brochures from Disneyland, Las Vegas, The Redwoods, and a few other tourist spots. He eyed them for a while, examined them for any markings then tossed them aside. He rifled through Xander's workbench and found some notes on future projects, but nothing really useful. He searched again and came up empty. After rubbing his face roughly, he headed back to his cold empty quarters.

Timmins met him at the door and helped him off with his boots. He thanked Timmins softly and flopped into a chair. He ignored everything as he applied his intelligence to the problem of finding Xander. Obviously, he wasn't being forced to return, Tara had suggested that the spells and charms on his collar and the gemstone beads in his warlock would protect him from the majority of the effects of the thrall spell.

Spike paced and thought for hours until finally Giles, summoned by Timmins, just grabbed him, forced him into a chair and gave him a mug of blood.

"Here, you idiot, eat. You're not going to accomplish anything by starving yourself insane. And even the cows in your stable are worried about you. Strange as that seems."

Spike took his nose out of the mug and snarled, "Don't call them that. They're not cows, they're people. People who have agreed to feed me. They're free to leave anytime they want. I take care of them in return."

Giles snorted. "Take care of them? How?"

"I pay them, get them clean of drugs or alcohol, help them get an education. When the agreed span of service is over, I find them jobs and homes. That's how. Xander doesn't object, so who are you to turn up your nose at it?"

"No one. I'm surprised."

Spike snorted. "Surprised that the Big Bad isn't so bad? I'm just getting smarter in my old age. I don't want a lot of attention attracted to me; leaving a trail of bloodless bodies is not a good way to keep a low profile. So, I keep a stable. Live with it."

Giles could only agree. "I'll have to. My only attempt to free all your cattle led to me being laughed out of the room. Rather irritating actually. Here I was all protective hero, as Buffy would say, and they're giggling their fool heads off." Giles smiled a bit and shrugged. "Oh well. I'll live. Now ..." He stood up, slapped his hands on his thighs and announced. "Come on. We're going to brain storm and find that idiot boy."

So Spike, Timmins, and Giles settled at the kitchen table to try to figure out what the hell Xander was thinking.

Giles ran a hand over his hair, smoothing down the rumpled locks. "Well, he went north, but wound up in San Jose? Either he tried to throw us off track by going north then doubling back or he got lost. Either way, we now have no idea where he headed."

Timmins tapped his finger on the table. "Master Spike, you and he watched hours of cop shows, what are the odds that he used anything from those shows to hide himself?"

"Good, I'd say. Boy's no where near as stupid as he acts. He gets nervous, he gets stupid. He gets mad ... we'll just say all bets are off." Spike turned to Giles. "And what's up with the reading? I don't understand that at all. He needs all sorts of helpers to read simple English, an' when he's tired or pissed or not paying proper attention ..." Spike trailed off with a sick expression on his face. "Damn! Me an' my fucking temper. He never read that sign, probably thought it was some sort of doodle or something. And I know he never got word about the portal balls. Arnold was supposed to spread the word. He didn't tell Timmins either. That ape! I ought ... well, Master Robinson will take care of his shit. Idiot is probably in heavy bondage right now. Learnin' ta serve." Spike's expression said that he hoped the learning process was painful in the extreme."

Giles finally got his head out of his ass. "What reading problem? I never noticed anything except a permanent determination to be as disruptive as possible, or asleep. Tell me exactly what you're talking about. He reads several demon languages and several ancient ones perfectly."

"I don't know what I'm thinkin'. Something isn't right, and I can't even put it into words. Maybe he got cursed? All I know is, we need to figure this out ... now. Research it or summat."

Giles nodded. "Very well, you say something is wrong with Xander's reading skills. I've noticed something myself, but I never ... I'm not a trained teacher, I'm a research librarian and an antiquarian. I specialize in old books, parchments and Watching. Not learning disabilities. I'll do some research, which I'm very good at, and see what I can come up with. Excuse me." He got up from his chair and left the room, headed for Xander's office, which Spike had said he could use.

Xander left the restaurant, headed for his new apartment. It wasn't that far to walk, the only reason that Mr Pena had driven yesterday was that there had been several apartments to see and walking to all of them wasn't possible. Xander was glad he'd taken the apartment he had. The super had actually needed help, and the landlord might take some off the rent for Xander's help with repairs. It meant that Xander would still be in construction, a job he loved. And one he knew better than to do, Spike would have someone searching every site in the States trying to find him.

As he walked, he looked around. His Sunnydale reflexes made him eye every alley for demons, muggers, or who knew what. Not to mention the training Master Bruce had put him through. He really missed his swords and knives; he would have to get something soon. He couldn't stand the feeling of being unarmed. It made his skin crawl.

He made it home in good time and realized that it would be a nice jog from the apartment complex to the restaurant, and it didn't matter if he got there sweating, he'd be sweaty in no time anyway. And when he got home he could do tai-chi in the inner courtyard. He wondered if he'd ever have enough extra money to join a gym, or a dojo.

He also worried about the effects of Spike's blood wearing off. What might happen then? Would he have withdrawal symptoms? If so, what would they be? He sighed, opened the door to his apartment, and started stripping off his stinking clothing.

He tossed his clothing onto the bathroom floor and turned on the shower; while the water was heating he shaved. He hated shaving with cold water, but it was either that or wait until the shower heated up and shave in there, which he hated even more. After his shower, he went into the kitchen and scrounged for something to eat. He'd had lunch at the restaurant and stuffed himself, with the blessing of Mrs. Pena. So, he wasn't very hungry, but he knew he was going to be hungry in the morning. He knew he had to pay off some debts already, but he hoped to have enough money left from his first paycheck to get groceries He didn't want to go back to his old diet of heavy starchy, fatty foods; he'd gotten too used to steamed, broiled and baked, not to mention stir fry. He rubbed his face and sighed.

The next morning found Xander with a better outlook on life. The super had knocked on Xander's door at about 9pm and handed him a list of things that needed fixing, telling him that every job was worth between 50 and 75 off his already low rent. He had settled at his kitchen table and made a schedule. If he could stick to it, his rent would be free.

He paused to knock on Mr. Jones's door after his sparse breakfast of dry toast and tea bag tea.

"Morning, come in. Coffee?" Mr. Jones turned back to his kitchen with Xander nearly treading on his heels.

"Coffee would be great. I haven't had a chance, nor the money, to go to the grocery store yet."

Mr. Jones motioned for Xander to sit at the table. "Here, black, or ruined."

"Black, unless it's cappuccino, then I like stuff in it." Xander accepted the black coffee with a smile.

"Ok, boy, out with it. Something's on your mind."

"Yeah, well, I looked over the list you gave me. I can do all of it easily, except, I need tools. I don't have any. Can you help me out?"

"Sure, glad to. For a second there I thought you were going to crap out on me. I'll give you a key to the super's room. I've got all kinds of tools in there. And ... there's only two keys to that room. You'll have one, and I'll have the other. We understand each other?"

Xander just nodded. "Sure do. I'll be careful with them. Thanks. I better get going. I'll be late if I don't leave right now." Xander glanced at his watch, never realizing that Mr. Jones recognized it as expensive, exclusive and very traceable. All of which made him wonder what an obviously rich young man was doing in this particular place, working in a small, family restaurant.

Xander jogged to work and settled into his daily routine. He washed dishes all morning then he needed to mop the floors. When he went into the main room to mop, he noticed that there were still two customers left. He glanced at the waitress to see if he should go ahead and mop, she nodded at him, so he started at the area the farthest away from the customers. He decided to take his time so as not to crowd the men, making them think he was trying to get them out.

Maria, the waitress on duty, wanted the men out; they made her uncomfortable, so she wished Xander would mop closer to them. She decided to take matters into her own hands so she called to Xander, "There's a sticky spot right there in the middle of the left side aisle, mop it now, will you?"

Xander looked where she was vaguely pointing, didn't see a spot and started to say something, but one look at her face decided different. He just nodded, moved his bucket and started to mop. It didn't take long for Maria's hunch to be proven correct, both men got up, pulled knives and headed for the cash-register. Xander sighed, unscrewed the mop handle from the head with quick flicks of his wrists and stood between them and Maria. He wasn't concerned with the money, but these two men were local hoods. They'd stabbed someone in the last three places they'd robbed.

"Ok, guys, this is it. Give up now, and you won't get the shit kicked out of you."

The one on his left flicked a knife at him and the one on the right tried to flank him. It didn't work. Xander flicked the makeshift bo toward the one he'd decide to think of as Ape, Ape backed up, nearly bumping into Knife. Xander stepped back to give himself enough room to work, this made Knife sneer and step forward, swinging his knife from side to side.

"Thanks, ass hole. I really needed that." Xander brought his bo down on Knife's wrist with a sharp crack then reversed and swatted Ape across the temple. Ape dropped, out cold, Knife screamed like a girl.

"You broke my arm, Cabron."

Xander eyed him with disgust. "No, I didn't, you big girl. You'll be fine before the cops get here."

Maria had nearly fainted when Xander took on both men, now she was wondering if she was seeing things. She finally decided to just go with it She stuck her head into the back hall way situated behind the register desk and yelled for Mr. Pena then she called the police.

Mr. Pena hurried to the front to find Xander leaning on his mop stick, watching the thugs with a disgruntled expression on his face. "Well, that's done it. If the cops ask me any questions, I'm sunk."

"Xander, are you in trouble with the law?"

"No, but I'll bet a week's pay Spike has an 'in' with them. He'll find out where I am, sure as I'm standing here."

Mr. Pena just shook his head. "Cops here are honest. They won't tell. Relax."

So Xander tried to relax while he waited for the cops to come and take his information. When they arrived it was more or less as Mr. Pena had said, the cops took his information, assured him that no one outside the precinct would find out and left, taking their prisoners with them. He was now a POI, person of interest. He spent the rest of the day worrying about it while he completed his work.

He left the restaurant with a carry-out and instructions that he was to take something home with him until payday. He thanked the Pena's gravely and headed for home.

After eating his supper while listening to the news on the small tv in the kitchen, the only one in the apartment, he went out to find the tool room so he could start on his list of repairs.

As he opened the door, he sent up a small prayer to who ever was listening. "Oh, man, great! This is just great." The room was a construction worker's dream, most supers had a few tools and made do; this room was full of all sorts of things. He saw a table saw in one corner and an industrial drill in another. The work benches were backed by peg board covered in wrenches, screwdrivers and other tools, including a small, but nice, set of wood working chisels. He picked out the tools he needed for two jobs, put them in a plastic bucket, and left for his first job.

It didn't take him long to stop the leak in 341, or re-hang the door in 212 and he was offered the perks of coffee, cake and tuna salad. He went back to his room, satisfied with his work. He didn't sleep very well.

Tara sighed. She'd been welcomed into the residence, given a very nice room, and told that she could have anything she wanted. She knew Spike expected her to find Xander, but she wasn't really sure that she should. The reason that Xander had run disturbed her.

After much thought and a few tears, she decided to consult the tarot cards and see what they had to say about it. The cards came up with a few answers and more questions. They said that Xander definitely needed to be found, that Spike was a 'good' person, and that there were still difficulties ahead, but they refused to tell her what the difficulties were. She rewrapped them in the silk cloth she kept them in and tucked them back into her bag.

She paced her rooms for a while then decided to help Spike. He'd asked so nicely and looked so sad that she really didn't have the heart to say no. So she went in search of Timmins.

She found him in the play room packing up Xander's Playstation, Nintendo, and Wii. He turned when she made a sound.

"Oh, can I help you, Miss?"

"Yes, please. I've decided to help find Xander, but I need some things."

Timmins tucked the controller into the box he was packing and turned to her. "I'll be happy to supply you with anything you need. If I can't get it I'll tell Master Spike. He'll get it for you, if it exists."

Tara smiled a bit at that. "I don't need much. Just something of his, something he uses a lot. And maps. Paper maps. I'm not good enough to do it on computer."

"I'll get right on it. I'll tell Master Spike as well. We'll meet in the ... um ... some place with a large table?"

Tara nodded. She'd need a place to lay out the maps and put her incense burner and a few other things.

She just hoped the spells on Xander's beads didn't interfere with this, but she was afraid it would.

It turned out that she was right. After praying and burning incense to appease Gaia, she started her search. She spread out a map of California on the table and held her crystal pendant over it. It swung back and forth for a few moments then began to circle randomly. She sighed and put it down.

Giles, who had been with Spike when he was summoned, grumbled. "Well this is the first time I've ever been sorry I did a good job. We spelled those beads to intensify their natural properties and Spike had spells put on Xander's collar to protect him from ... I'm not sure what." He rubbed his face in frustration. "So ... now what?"

Spike just sat and stared at the map. He wondered dismally if he'd ever find Xander. He shook himself physically and mentally. He eyed the map then applied himself to figuring out how to find at least a clue.

"His truck! Tara, luv, can you find his truck? If we find that ... maybe we can find someone who at least saw him."

Tara's eyes widened. "Yes, I can find the truck. I can find lost things really easily. Let me ..." Tara picked up her pendulum again and held it over the map. It obligingly pointed to San Jose. Tara tapped the map. "Some where there. If you have a map of San Jose, I can try to narrow the search some more."

Timmins produced a city map and Tara tried again and again, the pendulum hovered over a specific area. Spike looked closer and grimaced. "A bus station? Damn."

"But maybe someone will know something. And at least we'll have his truck back."

Giles nodded. "And perhaps there's a clue in the truck."

Spike hopped to his feet, re-energized. "Let's go."

It didn't take them long to get a vampire friendly SUV, driver, and Bud. Bud had simply said that he was going, no asking permission; he just got in the SUV and settled back. Spike, Giles, Tara and Timmins got in the two back seats and they were off.

The drive to San Jose didn't take that long, just long enough for Spike and Giles to get into an argument about, of all things, poetry. Tara didn't understand most of it and really wasn't listening anyway. She was busy thinking and watching the sun set.

"Spike?" Spike grunted to let Tara know he'd heard her. "What are you going to do when you find Xander?"

"Not sure yet, little witch. I'll figure it out when I see him. Why?"

Tara shrugged. "I'd hate to bring him back to you ... for the wrong reasons."

Spike flinched slightly. "I said I made a big mistake with him, you think I'd compound it? Run him off for good? I may have a bad temper, but I'm not really stupid."

"Oh, ok. I was thinking. You're the master, but you act more like the slave. Who tells you, you have to treat Xander a certain way? Your demon? Or ... tradition?"

Spike thought before he answered, watching Giles out of the corner of his eye. "Well, a bit of both. The demon is a jealous asshole, tradition evolved to try to keep the demon from attacking everything or one who got too near a claimant. I want to claim Xander. Very badly. It's makin' me nuts."

"Why don't you claim him then?" Spike rubbed his face, trust the Watcher to ask that one.

"Don't want to yet. I want him to want it, not just submit because it's easier. Want him to want me for me, not because the damn thrall spell forces him into it. See?"

Giles smiled in a satisfied way. "I do. Congratulations, Spike, you're well on your way to winning Xander over."

Spike just sighed and leaned against the door.

Finally the driver announced that they were at the San Jose bus station. He started to park, but Giles told him to drive up and down the aisles instead. It didn't take them long to find Xander's truck parked near the back of the lot, near some large bushes.

"Boss, this it? It looks like it."

Spike glanced out the window. He'd been glaring at the bushes; something was making one of them shake. "What? Oh, bloody hell, that is it." Spike climbed out of the SUV and hurried over to the truck.

He was waylaid by a thin, hungry looking vampire. "Stop right there. That truck doesn't belong to you. It belongs to ... to."

Spike's glower made the vampire stumble to silence. "It belongs to me. My thrall was driving it when he disappeared. Do you know anything about it?"

The vampire dropped to one knee, bowing with his hand to his heart. "Yes, the one driving the truck smelled like you, like all people in your domain. I was given it by your representative. I wasn't sure who he was, and by the time I decided what to do, he was already on the bus. I guarded the truck, knowing that you'd find it sooner or later. Did I do well?"

Spike nodded. "Yes, you did a very good job." The vampire staggered a bit. "You okay?"

"Yes, Master, just a bit hungry. I'm young yet, and it's been a while since I ate. I passed up a meal because I ... I'm not good at not killing my ... donors yet, so I was afraid to attract too much attention and I'm feeling it."

Spike motioned to Timmins. "Bring something from my stock." Timmins gave the vampire an assessing look then went to the SUV. "What's your name?"

The vampire startled everyone but Spike and Timmins by saying, "Anything you like, Master. Will you take me on?"

"Yes, I'll take you on. And I really don't like trying to think up names."

"I was named Thomas Dalton. I like Tom, if it's alright." Tom glanced up at Spike then down at the ground.

"Tom is good. Here," Spike bit into his wrist, making a shallow gash. He held it out to Tom who took Spike's hand reverently and licked the blood off, getting a good half teaspoon full and sealing the cut. Timmins came back with a warm bag of blood and handed it to Spike.

Spike passed it on to Tom and waited while he bit into the plastic and sucked the blood right out of the bag.

"Better?"

"Yes, Master. You have questions, I'm sure. I'll do my best to answer them."

Spike tapped his chin with one finger. "Giles?"

Giles just shook his head. "You ask first. I'll follow."

Spike glanced at Bud then Tara. "Either one of you have questions?"

Bud answered for both of them. "You go first. Then we'll see."

Spike nodded then turned to Tom. "Ok, tell me everything you saw. Don't leave out any detail, no matter how small."

So Tom told them about Xander arriving, buying a ticket, and getting on the bus. He related what he'd heard very carefully, including the fact that he'd smelled tears when Xander had patted his truck before walking away.

Spike sighed. "I want that truck back at the residence, not leavin' it here. Someone'd have it stripped out in a second."

Tom nodded. "I had to drive at least half a dozen gang bangers away. Wish I could have eaten one or two of them."

Spike made a face. "You'd think they'd taste nice. All that good food they eat, tacos, nachoes, tamales..." Spike licked his lips, thinking of all the good food. "But most of 'em are junkies or at least casual users, that makes 'em taste off. Really nasty. You wouldn't have liked it much. Now, back to my boy. Anything else you can think of?"

"No, except I think I heard him ask for a ticket to Denver. I was afraid to get too close for fear he'd see me and know I'm a vampire. He'd have run off for sure. The lady at the desk is the same one he bought his ticket from. You could ask her. She might remember, especially if you have a picture."

Spike did. and showed it to the woman, who announced that she wasn't telling Spike anything. Spike just offered her 50 for the info telling her he was just trying to catch up with his ex-brother-in-law who wouldn't pay child support. She folded in a rush and confirmed that Xander had bought a ticket to Denver. He thanked her with appropriate gravity and walked back to the group.

"He's gone to Denver, we better get on the road. Tom, you come with us, Bud you drive Xander's truck and follow. Giles, give Bud your cell so we can keep in contact." Giles didn't even protest, he just tossed his phone to Bud. The small dose of Master's Blood that Spike had given Tom had initiated him into the inner court, ensuring his trustworthiness "Let's get going."

They clambered into their assigned vehicles, pulled out and headed for Denver.


	27. Chapter 27

It took a week for the thrall spell to really dig it's claws in

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: 27/?

Word count:

Rating:Mature

Disclaimer:Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Warnings:Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language,

Parings: Spike/Xander

Beta: Aayesha Rajkumari

All chapters a href"/planet/writerblock/indexes/miscindex.html"here/a

This link leads to my website.

O

It wasn't a full week before the thrall spell dug its claws into Xander. The spells and charms on his beads and torc helped, but it was still there in the back of his mind, like a tick he couldn't reach. It made him nervous and restless, something that Angelina noticed quite quickly.

"Xander, come into the office. I need to speak to you."

Xander sighed; there went his job. "Yes, ma'am."

"Sit." Xander did as he was told, taking the uncomfortable straight-backed chair in front of the desk. "Now, are you on drugs?"

Xander blinked then started shaking his head. "No! No drugs for me. Don't like them, make me crazy more like. And they're too expensive anyway."

"I see. Then... may I touch you?"

Xander nearly jumped out of his skin. "Touch me? Um... not sure that's a good..." At Angelina's look he reconsidered what he was going to say and just nodded his head.

Mamacita ran her hands over Xander's shoulders. His bruises were healing well, but that wasn't what she was looking for. She concentrated all her powers, weak as they were, and finally found what she was looking for. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, but she didn't like it one bit.

"Who cursed you? And why?"

Xander nearly jumped out of his skin again. "Cursed? What are you... I'm not... why would..."

She gave Xander her 'mother look' and announced. "I'm a bruja, a witch. I'm not very powerful, but I can sense things. You smell of demons and magic. Now, what have you gotten yourself into? If you don't tell me, I can't help you."

Xander sighed and rubbed his face. "You can't help me anyway. Not unless you're really powerful and not real bright. I smell of demon because of the curse, and the witch who cursed me is really powerful. I don't know why the curse hasn't kicked in, but it's just an itch. Like one somewhere I can't quite reach. Can I go now?"

"No. I want to look at your warlocks for a second. I won't change anything, just look. I promise." Xander gazed at her for a moment then nodded.

Mrs. Pena fingered each bead then touched Xander's torc. "You have some very powerful protections there. The stones themselves are protections, and they all have spells on them. The torc has more of the same, but the spells are wearing, thinning, and losing their power. I can... recharge them, if you like."

Xander looked skeptical for a moment, but Mrs. Pena assured Xander that her work wouldn't damage the spells, only fail to give them more power if it didn't help. He nodded then and waited while she gathered her bag, and a box of small containers.

"Come with me, then. We'll go to the basement. It won't take long."

It really didn't take very long. There was a permanent pentacle painted on the floor so all Angelina had to do was put out her candles and set up her brazier. She had Xander sit in the middle of the pentacle. When the charcoal was hot, she tossed in some herbs and Xander muttered, "Stinky herbs, always stinky herbs." She hushed him and started chanting; as she chanted she lit the candles. When she was done lighting all the candles, she clapped her hands. The candles flared up into pillars of flame, and then melted into puddles of steaming wax. Xander didn't even flinch, although Angelina did.

"Is that all? Can I go back to work now?" Xander clambered to his feet and stood in the pentacle, waiting for her to decide.

"Yes, I recharged the crystals, for lack of a better explanation. You can go back to work."

"Good, thanks. I do feel better. How long do you think it will last?"

"I have no idea, but I know I can only do it once. If I try to do it again, I might crack them all, and that would be a very bad thing."

Xander contemplated that for a moment then decided to just be happy with what he had. He'd worry about things when it was time to and not before. He went back to work.

Angelina, on the other hand, had a lot to think about. She'd never seen anyone like Xander before. He'd accepted the statement that she was a witch without turning a hair. And when the candles had flared up, he had acted like it was nothing new. She wondered where he was from, that such things didn't make him ask hundreds of questions or take off running.

.

Giles sighed; he was not happy, and Ripper was very near the surface. He'd been cooped up in the SUV with Spike for over six hours since they'd left Sunnydale. Six hours in which he'd managed not to stake him by main force of will. Tara had been lucky, choosing to go back to Sunnydale when Spike changed his mind and ordered Bud and Timmins and the driver back there. Giles was glad Xander's truck was an extended cab.

Spike jittered, squirmed, and sighed. He wanted to be in Denver now. He was sure someone would have noticed Xander and could at least tell them where to start looking. If they'd only get there. He started jittering his leg again.

"Spike, if you don't sit still, I swear I'll stake you. Stop that!" Giles grabbed Spike's knee and pressed down on it, stopping its insistent bobbing.

Spike snarled at Giles, but didn't object further. Giles nodded and settled back in his seat. "If you don't relax, you'll be no use whatsoever when you're needed. Sleep if you can."

Spike just gave one jerky nod and settled back to try to sleep a little. Giles watched him for a moment. He wondered if anyone else knew how upset Spike truly was. It was significant that Spike actually obeyed him, Giles, at all. Giles sighed; he really didn't want to babysit a vampire, much less Spike, but he knew that Spike needed a good adviser and the Order of Taraka had asked the Watcher's Council for him, by name. The Order and the Council politely ignored each other most of the time, but when both of them wanted the same thing, it happened. Or else. And he didn't want to find out what the "or else" was.

The fifteen-odd hours it was going to take to get to Denver were going to be absolute torture. And that time was only if they didn't stop for anything. At all. Giles rubbed his face. They'd only been on the road for a little less than four hours. He was looking at at least another eleven hours in the presence of a Master Vampire with no patience and a _need_ for something he couldn't get.

Tom glanced at Giles, in the seat next to him and remarked, "If you need to stop, let me know. I'll be good for at least another four hours or so, then I'll need to stop. You could drive a bit, too. Take the edge off. Should I offer Master Spike the wheel?"

Giles shook his head. "No! He's too distracted to drive, and his driving is, at best, atrocious."

Spike announced, "Oi! I heard that."

"So? You're not driving, and that's that. I refuse to ride in any vehicle in which you're behind the wheel."

Spike started to grumble then realized that Giles was right. There was no way he was going to be able to drive; he really was too distracted to manage not to wreck them. Where was Xander? Was he hungry? Was he cold? (Never mind that it was summer in a desert state.) Spike dropped his head into his hands and worried.

When they pulled over about four hours later he protested vigorously. "Why are we pulling over? What are you doing? Where are you going?"

Tom turned around. "Mister Giles is going to the Men's room. Then he's going to get some coffee and food, for both of us. Coffee at least. Then Mister Giles is going to drive for a while. Relax."

Spike went into game face and snarled at Tom, who just started purring. Spike tried to be offended, but gave it up; he was exhausted by worry and grief. He was asleep in a tangle of blankets, duster, and limbs when Giles got back.

"He asleep again?"

Tom nodded. "Yeah, I purred until he couldn't resist anymore. Drusilla really made some odd ones, didn't she?"

"You know Drusilla?" Giles sipped at his coffee.

"Not real well. She was really good at messing up a Siring, though."

Giles started the SUV, stuck his coffee into a cup holder, and backed out. "How? I heard she never sired more than Spike. At least that's the info the Watcher's Council has."

"Pfft! That bunch of old ladies. They don't know squat. She's sired at least three childer. Spike was the only one that stayed with _them_. The other's are around, here and there. Mostly, they're smart enough to stay hidden. Angelus was... jealous of her ability to sire a childe who retained some humanity."

Giles rubbed his face with one hand, keeping the other on the wheel. "I see. And why doesn't the Council know this?"

"Because they're too set on staking, beheading, even defenestrating anything not human. They don't ask questions. They just set the slayer on, and that's it. The Order of Taraka, on the other hand, they want to know everything. They keep good records, too. If you ask Master Spike, maybe he'll get you copies of their public records. Be really interesting."

Giles spared a glance from the road to Tom. "You speak very well. What did you do before you became a vampire, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Special Ed teacher. Got snatched up in '94 on my way home from a parent/teacher meeting. Never thought I'd be glad to say, 'I was a bachelor.', but I am. Would have hated to have left a wife and children behind."

Giles nodded. "I see. I'd like to ask you some questions." Tom shrugged. "What do you know about learning disabilities? Exactly. I need information. Spike mentioned that Xander has trouble reading. I need to try to figure out what his problem is."

Tom pulled at his lip. "Hummm. Well, I have kind of kept up. I'm not a minion, nor even a fledge. Not sure what I am, except that I'm masterless. Nice that Master Spike took me on like that. So... can you give me a list of symptoms?"

Giles shook his head wearily. "No. Spike?" Giles never took his eyes off the road. "What can you tell us about Xander?"

Spike woke at the sound of his name. He told Tom everything he could think of that might have any bearing on Xander's problem. Tom listened, asked a few questions, and then settled back to think. He was fairly sure he knew what was wrong with Xander, but he wasn't taking any chances of being wrong. He'd never made a diagnosis without as much information as possible in his breathing life; he wasn't going to start now.

After a while, he straightened and said, "I think I know what the problem is. I have to actually talk to Master Xander before I make my diagnosis. And, remember that I'm not a specialist, only a teacher, with specialized training true. I'd like for him to see someone who... "

Spike stirred and snarled, "No, no one from outside. I don't trust them. You read up and what not."

Neither Giles nor Tom argued with Spike, but they exchanged looks. Giles just announced, "Fine. Tom and I will do our best, but he might need spectacles or some other special equipment."

"Then he'll have it. If we have to get a prescription for something, that's different."

They settled back to travel in strained silence. The SUV continued on its way, tires thrumming.

.

Xander swiped at the table top and sighed. He needed to get clean water to wash the tables with, but he was so tired. He'd been keeping up his jogging and kata, but it was getting harder and harder. The thrall spell pulled at him constantly now. He got no rest when he slept, either. He dreamed of Spike.

He dreamed of his smell, the feel of his cool hands on warm flesh. Xander wondered if he was really crazy, or was the spell making him mad. He didn't know how much longer he could hold out. It had only been a few days, but he felt like it had been years.

Xander pushed the stainless steel bus cart into the back, took the wash bucket out of its holder, and dumped the dirty water into the sink. He refilled it with clean water, added a dash of dish soap, and put it back in its place. His hands were shaking slightly. He returned to work, shoulders slumped.

Angelina watched him and turned to her husband. "The 'fix' is already wearing off. The spell is much more powerful than I expected. This is not good. I worry for him; he is so sad. When I get my hands on the one who put such sadness in him..." She crossed her arms over her bosom and nodded her head sharply. Then she uncrossed them and went into the back, muttering in Spanish. Mr. Pena sighed; he hated it when she got on the 'war path'.

He turned to watch Xander for a moment. If it wasn't drugs, or some illness, he wondered what the curse was. He knew that if it had been a curse that made Xander do drugs or mimicked a disease, Angelina would have broken it. That left only a few things he could think of that it might be. He decided to petition the new Master of California to see what he could do about helping. The old master hadn't been worth anything, running off to Los Angeles and not doing his duty. He hoped the new Master was better. He'd see.

Xander clocked out and headed for home. He had to stop by the store on the way to get groceries, but he wandered up and down the aisles, picking up only a few items. He didn't have much appetite anymore. He wondered how much longer he could hold out against the spell. He finished shopping and carried the two small bags back home.

He was met at his door by Mr. Jones. "Damn, Xander, I'm glad you finally showed up. I've got a major break in a water main."

Xander unlocked his door and started putting his groceries away. "Ok, I'm not a plumber, what am I supposed to do?"

"No plumbing. But there's a mess of other things that have come up. I can't take care of them and supervise the plumbing repairs, too. So, I'm dumping everything else on you. I'll call Mr. Pena and see if I can't get you tomorrow off. I need you that bad. Ok?"

Xander sighed, rubbed the back of his neck and said, "As long as it doesn't lose my job, I don't care. I can't afford to lose it."

"It won't. He's a good guy. When he finds out how bad I need you, he'll say it's ok. If he doesn't, well, I'll just have to manage. You done?" Xander nodded. "Ok, here's a list of stuff that has to be done today. And I'm paying double. The owner said to pay what it takes."

Xander smiled a little, at this rate he'd be paid through the end of the year. "Ok. I'm on it in a minute. I'll just get my belt and start right on this. Is it in any particular order?"

"Yeah, start at the top and work your way down, I arranged it by need. Mrs. Jemenez needs her AC fixed right away. She's got asthma and a heart condition; she can't take the heat."

"Gotcha, on my way." Xander snagged his tool belt from the peg by the door and headed out. Mr. Jones gazed after him for a moment, concern on his face. He left, too, headed for the back parking lot and the mess of a broken water main that had left 20 units without water.

.

Spike nearly tore the door off getting out of the SUV. They'd been driving all day and most of the evening. They'd just pulled up in front of the bus depot, and both Tom and Giles were glad to see Spike's coat tails. He'd done nothing but whine for the last three hours. Giles was ready to stake him. Tom was both amazed and surprised that a 'soulless' being could care so much for anyone.

Spike managed to be polite to the lady at the desk. When he asked her about anyone getting off a bus, she just told him that there was no way anyone would remember a specific person. But when Spike showed her a picture of Xander she admitted that she would have noticed him.

Giles and Tom walked up just in time to see Spike show the clerk Xander's picture. Her answer made them both brace themselves for some sort of explosion. It never happened.

"Ok, luv, ya tried. I really need to find him; he's sick and doesn't know it. We had a fight and Xander took off. How the hell am I gonna find him here?"

The woman ticked her fingernails on the counter for a moment. "I'm sorry to hear that. But... well, are you sure he's even here? I mean, the bus stopped three times, did you check in the stops? He might have gotten off at one of them, especially Vegas. Lots of people get a ticket to Denver or some other destination, but the second they see Vegas, they just get off right there. And there's a lot of opportunities there. People come in and leave by droves."

Spike nodded. "I see. And you're sure you didn't see him?"

"Honey, I'm as sure as I can be. I wasn't that busy that night so I was watching debarkation just for something to do. I'm sure I would have noticed him because he'd be just right for my niece. Here, let me... " She fished around for a second. "Got it. I'll enter the route number and date. I can print you out a list of stops. You'll have to do the rest for yourself. Hope you find him." She waited for a moment then handed Spike a single sheet of paper. "There you go."

Spike tried to give her some money, but she refused it. He gave her one of his sweetest smiles, thanked her, and slipped into the shadows near the entrance. He came back a while later with a satisfied look. "I had a little talk with the lurkers. She'll never be bothered by demons or vamps, or even common thugs. Come on."

Giles groaned. They were going to be back in the SUV, which he'd been silently referring to as the Hell-mobile, and headed for-- somewhere. Tom patted him on the shoulder and murmured softly, "He'll be better now that he has a solid lead. You can drive for a while more, can't you?"

Giles nodded. "Yes, and thank you." Tom suddenly veered off, heading for a store in the nearby mall.

Spike turned and started to say something, but Tom interrupted him. "Master, I need some books. Will you pay for them, please? They're research materials. I'm behind in my reading by more than a year. They moved the library, and I couldn't get inside anymore. Sunshine, you know."

Spike just followed Tom into the store and watched, torn between impatience and amusement, as Tom gathered books on dyslexia, and several other 'obstacles to learning', as he called them. Spike handed over his credit card without a blink at the cost. Tom had his nose in a book before they reached the door. Giles took him by the arm and guided him to keep him from knocking down an unsuspecting pedestrian.

Tom settled himself in the back seat and surrounded himself with a barricade of books. Spike laughed softly and settled in the passenger seat. Giles had braced himself for Spike's demand to be allowed to drive, but it never came, which was a relief as Spike's driving was – terrifying, to say the least.

"I'll backtrack until we get to the first stop on the list, going backwards from here. Are you sure the woman was telling the truth?"

Spike nodded. "Yes, smelled her. And I'm pretty sure she would have noticed Xander if he'd gotten off the bus there. He's not what you'd call inconspicuous. What with his shoulders and long hair, and what not all."

Giles just grumbled, "I've noticed him myself. He's turned into an amazingly handsome young man. And when did that happen, I'd like to know?"

Spike nodded, "That he has. Bulked up and got all graceful... and deadly. He's no pushover, that's for sure." Spike turned and pinned Giles with a rather nasty look. "And what the hell were you thinkin', lettin' that boy go out on patrol without trainin'. You got your head up your ass so far you're lookin' out your nose."

"I know. But, I'm supposed to be a Watcher, not a martial arts teacher. Although, I'll admit that I should have trained him. I was trying to keep him out of it at first, and then I was so busy trying to keep Buffy from doing any number of really stupid things. And I'm just making excuses. I sound idiotic, even to myself."

Giles drove in silence, Spike smoked like a chimney, and Tom read. They drove through the darkness wrapped in their own thoughts.

.

Xander sighed heavily and pushed his door shut. It was nearly midnight, and he felt like he'd been dragged over ten miles of rough road. He'd fixed two AC's, a dryer, cleared out a toilet (the teddy bear didn't survive), and mended a long stretch of loose railing. Now all he wanted was to go to sleep.

He gave himself a quick wash and tumbled into bed. He was asleep in seconds.

He was awake again with barely enough time to check with Mr. Jones, who told him he had to go to work at the restaurant. He jogged there, arriving just in time to clock in.

"Xander! We have a big problem. The counter in the other location is broken. The man that was supposed to fix it hasn't shown up, and lunch is in two hours."

Xander just hunched his shoulders. "I can fix it... maybe. I'll need tools and stuff."

Mr. Pena just told Mr. Garcia to take Xander wherever he wanted to go and buy whatever he said to. Xander asked to be taken back to his apartment to get his tools. After that, they went to the other restaurant so Xander could look at the damage. Someone had somehow jammed the counter off its anchors. Xander made a list of what he'd need to do the repairs and handed it to Mr. Garcia. "I don't need to go with you to get this stuff. Just hand it to a floor clerk and tell him, or her, that this is what I need. Nothing there is special, it's all off the counter, and I wrote down exactly what size I need. Don't let them substitute. While you're gone, I'll do the preliminary work."

Mr. Garcia nodded and left. Xander started removing the bent L-brackets and the splintered base board. It didn't take long so Xander took the opportunity to sit down and have a drink.

He'd only been sitting for about five minutes when he found some assistant manager in his face.

"Look, you don't sit on the job, you work. If you don't have anything to do, find something. I'm not paying you to sit and drink soda."

Xander stood up, looming over the smaller man ominously. "Fine! You got two choices; I go back to my job at Mamacita's, or I wait for the parts to fix your counter. Your choice, but frankly, I'm in favor of me leaving you in the lurch. Smart ass!"

"Now see here. Who do you think you're speaking to?"

"Don't know, don't care." Xander looked down at the 'piss ant' and shrugged. "I was asked to fix this. It's a thousand dollar job, and you're getting it done for minimum wage. I don't have to do it at all. So, your choice, like I said. Get off my back, or I'm off the job."

Xander sat back down to finish his soda while his nemesis went back to the back to inform the manager that someone needed to have 'words' with Xander. The manager went out to the front to see what was going on. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw Xander. The manager was a full demon who looked human, thanks to genetics and a bit of glamour. He knew a Master Vampire's property when he saw it, or him.

"Hello. My name is Daniel, I'm the day manager. Would you mind telling me what is going on?" Daniel noticed Xander's torc and nodded to himself. This was a much prized individual.

"Mr. Pena sent me to fix the counter. Your assistant seems to be... a bit on the slow side. I'm waiting on parts that I need, so I decided to get a soda and sit for a while. He objected. I don't have to do this. I could just as easily go back to Mamacita's and bus tables. So, make up your mind. I go back, or you keep your assistant away from me and I do the job.'

Daniel just nodded. "Sure thing. You hungry? I'll have cook whip you up something, on the house. I'm just going to call Mr. Pena and tell him what's going on. I'm not looking to cause you any trouble. In fact, I have a different target in my sights. If you don't mind?"

Xander gave Daniel a rather evil grin. "I think we're on the same page. Sorry if I came off a little... grumpy. I'm tired. There was a lot to do at the apartment complex. That's how I'm paying my rent. Odd jobs actually have me paid up to the end of next month."

"I'll have you something out in a few minutes." Daniel nodded to Xander and went back into the back

A few minutes later Piss Ant was on his way out the door. He stopped, started to say something to Xander, but Xander's weary glare sent him on his way in frustrated silence.

Xander was just finishing his soda when a waitress came over with a hot plate. The smells made Xander's nose twitch; for some reason he was hungry this morning. "Smells good."

"Is good. Breakfast Burrito. Eat up, you're too skinny."

Xander dug in, eating with real appetite for the first time since he'd left Spike.

He was done with his food and just taking the plate to the bus wagon when Mr. Garcia came back with his materials.

It took Xander until nearly lunch to get the counter fixed and bolted back to the floor. He was sweating freely by the time he finished.

Daniel put his head together with Mr. Garcia, and they decided he should take Xander back home to shower before he went back to work. Xander was more than happy to get a shower before spending the rest of the work day busing tables and moping floors.

.

Giles parked at the large Truck-stop Restaurant complex and looked at Spike. "It's dark enough that you could go do this. You want me to come with you?"

Spike shook his head. "No, you go get something to eat and drag Tom out of those books. He's going to drive next. Then I am. I feel... better... in control again. Sorry I've been such a prat."

"You're not a prat." Spike grinned at Giles, waiting for the rest. "You're a wanker. We'll find Xander, but I'm not letting you near him if he doesn't want you. Got me?"

Spike just glared at Ripper; he finally capitulated and nodded. "Yeah, I got you. We'll worry about the pissing contest later. First we have to find him. I'm off."

Giles muttered, "In more ways than one."

Spike called, "Oi! I heard that," over his shoulder.

He walked into the checkout area and asked where the bus unloaded. He was told that it parked right in front of the restaurant and everyone came inside to get something to eat. He showed his picture to the man and asked if he recognized Xander. The checker shook his head, saying he didn't; he called the hostess over and asked her. She looked at the picture and shook her head, too.

"Honey, he never came in here. Everyone has to get off the bus here. And believe me, if that hunk had gotten off the bus, I'd know it." Spike thanked her and went to sit by Giles.

Tom was just walking in the door.

"Xander wasn't here. What's our next stop?"

Giles tapped the list. "Vegas. He's probably there. But we had to check. Besides, I needed the loo."

Spike ordered french fries and managed to confuse the waitress by calling them 'chips.' She walked away, muttering to herself, but soon returned with the fries.

Spike nibbled on them while Giles finished his blue plate special, and Tom drank coffee and read.

When they finished eating, Spike paid the bill and led the way back to the SUV.

"Tom, get your nose out of that book. It's your turn to drive." Tom stuck a bookmark in the book he was reading and climbed into the driver's seat. Giles instructed him to head for Vegas and settled back, announcing that he was going to sleep.

Spike had all he could do to keep from howling his impatience to anyone and everyone within ear shot. He settled in the passenger's seat, letting a weary Giles have the entire back seat to sleep in.

"You figure out anything more about my boy?" Spike didn't bother to try to seem casual. He wanted to know, he asked.

"Not yet. What I'm doing now is looking up all his symptoms and trying to decide what tests I need to give him."

Spike nodded wearily. "I see. Is there any cure?"

Tom shook his head. "No. But there are dozens of tricks he can use, from a simple line minder to special reading glasses. And other equipment. You both said he can read, it's just really difficult for him."

"Yeah, he used to use a 3 x 5 card; I think you called it a line minder? Giles was a right git about it so he stopped, I think. But he can read. I've seen him read Chinese and Japanese, cuneiform, and all three Egyptian scripts, as well as several demon languages. All without any trouble. Doesn't make sense."

So Tom explained that dyslexia presented itself in different ways in different people. People who couldn't read English could read music without trouble. Other people could read any symbol-based language, such as hieroglyphics or cuneiform, katakana, hiragana, and kanji, but had trouble with any alphabet based language like French, English, Spanish and so on.

"And that doesn't include the non-Roman alphabets like Cyrillic and Greek, et. al. So, we have to wait until I can test him to see what we can do."

Spike nodded. "I see, and that explains why he keeps all his private notes in shorthand. And, is that why he can't write very well?"

Tom nodded, never taking his eyes off the road. "Sure is. I bet if you look at his other writings, they're quite neat, probably even beautiful. He writes what he sees, and he sees differently than we do. There's no help for that, but there's always ways around any difficulty. Calligraphy lessons helped a few of my old clients. Again, we'll just have to wait and see."

"Yeah. And with my resources... well, just say, I'll eat anyone who makes fun." Spike clicked his teeth together viciously and turned to stare out the window.

.

Xander made his way home in a near daze. He felt bad, tired, sore, and muzzy-headed. He stopped on the way home to get some bottled tea and nearly left the nice supper Angelina had made for him. The shop girl had chased him half way down the block.

He had settled at his kitchen table to eat his supper and drink his tea, and he'd awakened, head on the table two hours later. He'd barely finished his food before he'd dozed off. He decided that he'd better get out and walk around a bit, or he'd never sleep the night through.

So Xander left his apartment, knocking on the door of Mr. Jones's apartment and calling to him that he was going for a walk. He heard a shout from the back of the apartment and went on his way.

It didn't take him long to find a strip mall. He wandered down the sidewalk, looking in the windows. He saw a wood carving set in one that made him nearly cry; it was Cherry brand, one of the best, with its own soft canvas roll. He sighed, maybe when he was better situated; right now, he needed weapons.

He continued on his way, looking in windows and wishing. There was a nice lambskin jacket that he knew he would need. Desert weather being what it was, the nights were colder than he'd expected. He shuddered, thinking about Las Vegas' nominal winter. He knew it would be cold.

He finally found what he was looking for, he hoped. There was a martial arts store hidden in a side alley of the L-shaped mall. The long leg wasn't joined to the short leg; instead there was a covered walkway between them with more shops lining it. It was in this alley that he found the store.

The bell over the door jingled softly as Xander opened it. He wandered down the middle aisle sadly. There wasn't a thing there worth taking home, at least, not for him. He continued on toward the back, examining weapons as he went.

Some of the weapons were just for display--very pretty, but not useful. Others were practice dummies, in loud-colored plastic or finely finished woods. The wooden ones, bokken, were dangerous. They could break bones or bruise someone badly, but they were useless to him.

Xander finally made his way to the back of the store, and his eyes lit up. There were only four or five swords hanging on the back wall, but they were all excellent examples of their type. He drooled over the tachi, but knew he couldn't afford it nor could he hide it. Moving on down the stand he lightly touched a wakazashi, but it was too long as well. Next came a long straight sword, again too long. He really wanted a gladius, or some other short sword, but this didn't look like the place to find such a thing.

He examined the daisho again. The long short swords, or katana and wakazashi, were so nice he wished he could buy them, but he didn't have enough money and he really didn't need them. So he dragged himself away to look for something more concealable.

He looked farther along the wall and found a gladiator sword that might work. If the steel was good enough. He also looked at a huge bowie knife in a display case that seemed worthwhile.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice from behind him asked, "May I help you?"

Xander whirled around and stopped himself from punching the man by a thousandth of a second. "Sorry, sorry. A little jumpy."

"Ah! I'm sorry, too. My name is Takahashi. My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you. Is there something special that you're looking for?"

Xander glanced around. "Well, yeah. Um... I really need something that I can... um... hide."

Mr. Takahashi just looked at Xander for a moment. "You seem like a very nice young man. Why would you need to hide a weapon?"

"I'm not that nice, and there's things out there that would like to eat me. And you, but I'll never convince you of that."

Mr. Takahashi raised one eye brow then reached over the counter and pulled out a sliver stick. Xander looked at it for a moment then grinned when Mr. Takahashi took hold of both ends and twisted; when he pulled, the stick separated into two blades. Each one was about 26" long, evenly divided between handle and blade. He liked it. It looked enough like a pimp stick that he could carry it with a minimum of fuss.

"This is good. Is there some place that I can try it out?"

"I've got a dojo in the back. I'm very particular about my students, but if all you want is a bit of room, you're welcome to go in."

Xander bowed slightly and followed as the man led him into the back. The dojo was nice, clean, but a bit smaller than what Xander was used to.

After removing his boots he stepped to the center of the room and twisted the grips to separate the swords; they slid apart easily leaving him with one sword in each hand. He started the Double Dragons kata and, after completing it, announced, "Nice, I like them, how much?"

The owner just sighed, rubbed his neck and said, "You're really good. Do you teach? I really need a helper, a junior Sensei, with the title of tesshi. You look like you could do it. If you do, the swords are free. If you don't feel you can, the swords are... 20."

Xander smiled a little, he felt very complimented by the offer. "I'm so sorry. It's a great compliment to me, that you feel I would be a good teacher. But I don't feel that it's the right time for me to do something like that. The swords are worth a great deal more than 20. Please let me pay what they are worth."

Mr. Takahashi thought for a moment. "No, I said 20, and that's what I'll take. If you change your mind, let me know. And, if there's anything else you need, keep me in mind. I can get almost anything you can think of. Now, I'll ring you up. Come on."

Xander just thanked the man and didn't insult his generosity by arguing with him. He did ask to buy sharpening stones to maintain the blades. He paid, bowed, and left. He really wished he could join the dojo, but he felt too ill to do so. It made him even sadder.

.

Spike had spent much of his time on the drive thinking. Finally he came to the best decision he could.

"When we get to Vegas, go to the Luxor, take the last underground garage entrance, and we'll see from there. I'll have to have a look around; all I've got are directions."

Tom just grunted; he was tired and didn't feel like talking. Giles did.

"Please explain to me, just for my personal information, why we're going to the Luxor?"

Spike grinned over his shoulder at Giles. "It's my headquarters. Got huge basement levels, really huge. I've got the two lowest levels now, and an option on a third. I set it up back in Sunnydale, before we left. I was planning to move here anyway. More convenient to the eastern part of my domain. I got directions on how to get in, but they really don't make sense. Here. Read 'em for yourself."

Giles accepted the printed out email and grumbled at the vagueness of the directions. "I see. We really will just have to... er... wing it."

Spike grumbled back, "Yeah, and my wings are a bit scorched by now. I'm going to have to do this a bit differently. I can't spend time rampagin' all over, tryin' to find that idiot. It's not going to do any good. I'm gonna have to find someone who knows... a detective, or bounty hunter, or something like that."

Giles nodded. "That's a good idea. I might... I'll have to check, but I think I know someone. Tara can find a general direction or area, and we can go from there."

Tom broke in with, "We're going to be there in about an hour. Mr. Giles, you might get Master Spike's phone, make a few calls now and have people waiting when we get there. Or schedule meetings for tomorrow. I'd think it would be a better idea to be fresh for such a thing."

Spike agreed and settled back to 'rest his eyes'. He was going to call the Order and call in a marker. They owed him several by now.

When they arrived at the Luxor, Tom drove into the parking garage and followed the directions until they ran out. That was when they found out why. They were facing a blank wall. Spike didn't throw the temper fit Giles was expecting. Instead he just got out, approached the wall and said, "High Master William the Bloody." The wall just wavered then disappeared. Tom drove up a bit, Spike got back in and they started down the ramp. There was only one way to go so they were sure they wouldn't get lost.

It wasn't long before they came to the end of the line. The ramp dead-ended in a large parking area. Tom pulled up to the door on the right side of the area and parked right in front. Several minions and fledges hurried out to greet them. One opened the back passenger door and another opened the front one.

The vampire who opened the rear door stepped back then lunged at Giles. He was met by a stake and a snarl. The sight of the stake stopped him long enough for the snarl to register. He stepped back, whimpering softly. The Castellan, or Master of the Castle, smacked him across the face with the back of his hand.

He turned to Spike and said, "I'm so sorry, High Master. Shall I have your snack taken to your rooms, or should I send him somewhere else?"

Spike eyed the vampire for a moment. His speech and mannerisms said that he was a highly placed person, possibly even a minor Master. Spike didn't care much. He punched the vampire hard.

"Not a snack. He's one of my advisors, and you'll treat him with respect. Tom is under my protection as well. Now, where's my quarters? Also, there's going to be my stable coming here soon. Hands off. And no more feeding willy-nilly. I'll deal with other stuff soon, but things are going to change drastically. Get used to it."

The Castellan just nodded; he'd managed to survive two masters by being flexible. He didn't intend for Spike to find fault with him over a human or two; there were many ways to feed besides the obvious. He turned and led Spike and his two companions into the residence.

"I beg your pardon, Master. It's been a very long time since I served a master who thought of humans as more than lunch. And you keep a stable? Will you be adding to it?"

Spike thought for a moment. "Probably. Jenny and Adriana are due to retire soon. I'll send Timmins out later. Timmins is my personal servant. I'll pass all my orders for the residence through him. In matters of the house, he is my voice. If you have questions, ask him, concerns, tell him. I don't deal with housekeeping."

The Castellan bowed slightly and pointed to a door. "That is the door to the lower of the two levels. That .." He pointed to another. "This is the door to the private part of the residence. I'll leave you to find your own rooms. I don't think I have the authority to tell you which rooms you should take. If you need anything, there are bell pulls all over the mansion. They're electronic, and they will summon either me, or one of two other servants. Will that be all?"

Spike nodded, "Yeah, for now."

The Castellan bowed and left. Spike turned to Giles.

"You ok?"

Giles just nodded. "Fine, that one missed dust by about an inch."

"If that. I saw. You're still fast, that's good. Come on, we need to pick our rooms."

Tom started to leave. "Oi! Where 'd ya think you're goin'?"

"To find rooms. Or at least a bed." Tom looked a bit puzzled.

"You're stayin' right here. You got a lot of research to do. You'll do it here, where you can share it with Giles."

Tom bowed. "Yes, Master. As you wish." Tom was delighted. This was going to make his work much easier.

Giles touched Tom on the arm. "Come, let's pick our rooms. I'll help you decide."

Giles put Tom in a small suite at the very back of the residence, servants quarters, but nice. He thought Timmins would like to have the strange vampire where he could keep an eye on him for a while.

Giles picked a larger suite for himself. It had a bed room, bathroom, and a very nice, fairly large sitting room/office, but its best feature was a tiny kitchenette. It was truly tiny, but quite adequate for making tea, coffee, and the occasional quick meal. He smiled when Bud showed up with his luggage.

Just then Tara stuck her head in the door. "Nice, my quarters had better be as nice."

Giles nodded to her. "Is Timmins here?"

Bud spoke up with, "He's getting the stable settled... and everyone else from Sunnydale that wanted to come. He'll be with you in a few minutes. I'm headed for my quarters, see you." The obviously tired and hungry demon left.

It didn't take them long to get themselves sorted out and settled. Timmins showed up with his usual efficiency and announced that he was bringing more servants into the house. Spike announced that he didn't care, Timmins was in charge of all that "cobber' and demanded tea.

Tara wanted to know where her things were. Timmins told her that all the luggage was on the loading dock and would be brought up and put away by the new servants.

It didn't take Timmins long to get Giles and Spike some tea, Tara a fruity drink, and meet Tom. Shortly after that, everything was as back to 'normal' as anything in Spike's presence ever was.

.

The next morning, or evening, if you're human, Spike placed several calls and spent three hours closeted with 'hunters', both human and demon. He handed out pictures of Xander and a jacket listing things he thought might be helpful in the search. It mentioned his skills, and the fact that he was good at construction and wood carving. It also listed all the languages he spoke and could read.

One of the demons remarked, "Well, I can see why you want this particular piece of property back."

Spike just pointed to the door. "Get out! He's not property, he's my boy. Anyone that harms so much as a hair on his body will regret it to their dying day. Got me?"

Nods all around the table let him know that they did.

Spike handed out small envelopes to each one with a retainer in them, and dismissed the group with another warning about hurting Xander in any way. Then he went in search of Tom.

He found the newest member of his inner circle in the library with his nose in a book. Spike took a moment to look around. It was a very large room with several conversation groups and three desks. One, centrally located, was obviously the 'master' desk; the other two were smaller. One was a lady's desk, and the other a general writing desk. The lady's desk was of the sort usually reserved for a woman, tiny, full of drawers and pigeon holes, best used for casual writing. In this case Spike decided it was for the use of guests wishing to write a letter, or something of that nature. The general use desk was nearly as large as the master desk and seemed to be meant for the use of the High Master's partner, or his second-in-command. Spike knew who was going to be using it. He smiled when he realized that Tom had taken over one of the two large library tables for his research.

"Find out anything?"

Tom looked up with a slight smile. "A bit. I found some more information on testing that I think will be useful. Other than that, my original plan is still looking like the best. I'll test Xander and go from there. Have you had any word?"

Spike sighed and shrugged. "No time yet. I just put the hounds on the scent. They've barely started." He sighed again and ran a hand over his face. "Damn! I just hope he's alright. I keep seeing him... hungry... doing without. And it's all my fault. If I'd listened to him right, this wouldn't have happened."

Tom watched Spike as he paced. After a few rounds of the room Tom got up and pulled Spike to the table. "Here. Start reading these. I need to find a good testing agency here in Las Vegas. I'll need their resources for the tests. I'm not competent to administer them myself. I can do all the prescribed training, but I'd really rather have the testing done by a disinterested third party." He had to smile at Spike's gob-smacked expression. "Yes, I was a very good teacher, before I got vamped. And I got enough master's blood that I didn't lose my mind. I think my old master was lonely. He talked to me quite a bit... at first. Then he got bored with me and just disappeared. I felt that, badly. I still wonder what it was that I did. If I did anything."

"Probably didn't do anything. Some masters do that, make a fledge, then never do much more than that. You'll get master's blood here. I'll give you enough that you'll be well into a true masterhood. I'm setting up a court to last my lifetime. I'll need advisors I can trust and believe me when I say, I know who I can trust and who I can't. My nose is very sensitive."

Tom just nodded, gave Spike a brilliant smile, and returned to his books.

.

A week went by, Spike settled his court, and Timmins got the residence into something resembling order. Xander's garden was moved from Sunnydale to Las Vegas with less trouble than expected. But Xander was still missing. Spike's temper was shorter, and Giles had all he could do to keep him from falling apart completely.

Timmins kept Spike appeased as best he could, and the court crept around in terror of William the Bloody. The hunters came and went, their reports sending Spike into towering rages or abject depressions. Every time they came with a report that someone had seen Xander, they found out that it was just someone who looked like him. Or they found that the person had moved on. The first sent him into a rage, the second into depression.

No matter how he felt though, he didn't take his rage or depression out on his court without good reason, something they couldn't quite convince themselves of.

The other thing that put Spike in a depression was that Tara, despite her best efforts, couldn't get a fix on Xander. She hadn't had too much trouble with the truck because it was not sentient and wasn't moving around. Xander was alive and was moving around. She was sure that the protections spelled into his warlocks and torc also had something to do with it. She had thought that they would be fading, but they seemed to have been re-energized. She kept trying, but she had to rest between tries and could only try about once every three days. Bud kept insisting that she take care of herself.

Giles continued his efforts to comfort Spike, feeling a bit odd, and finally managed to get him a bit more settled. The week-end seemed to be the breaking point somehow.

Spike came into the library and plopped into his chair. Tom was on the phone, talking to the testing group they'd decided on. He was trying to explain that Xander would be coming in at night, but the receptionist didn't seem to understand that. Finally, Tom just snarled into the phone, "No! I've told you four times that he can't come during the day. He's an adult. A grown-up."

Spike snapped his fingers for the phone. Tom obediently handed it to him, and Spike snarled, "Listen, for what I'm paying you, you should just be glad. He'll come in when we say, or we'll find someone else to do the testing. Get over it," and hung up. "Tom, dial back in about a half hour, and I'll bet you anything you like, the attitude will be much different. If worst comes to worst, I'll turn someone."

Giles snorted. "You will not. I'll just contact the Order or the Council and have them arrange something, when we find Xander. Which will be soon, I think. If my research is correct... " Spike interjected, "And it usually is" Giles nodded, "Thank you. As I was saying, if my research is correct, Xander's protections should have faded by now. Someone refreshed them. But they can only be refreshed once. They'll fade again soon. Then we'll have him."

Spike sighed. "I'm torn between chaining him to a bed and chaining him to me. I'll never lay a rough hand on him again. My demon be damned."

"I think you've fallen into the trap that many rulers fall into. Tradition is nice, a way of passing information from one generation to another. But if you let tradition rule you, instead of ruling it, bad things can happen. Vampire Court Ritual is exactly that, ritual. If you don't like some facet of court life, change it. It's your court after all is said and done. If anyone argues with you, punish them."

Spike leaned back in his chair, nodding absently. Tom gave Giles a secret smile, and Giles settled back to watch the fur fly. It was going to be interesting.

.

Another slightly short chapter, but this is the best place to end it.


	28. Chapter 28

28

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: 28/?

Word count: 8796

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language,

Parings: Spike/Xander

Beta: aayeshar

All chapters a href"/planet/writerblock/indexes/miscindex.html"here/a

This link leads to my website.

a href"#nameofreference"Chapter here

O

Spike glared at the vampire in front of him, "An' you're standin' there mouthin' off, because?"

The young-looking, ancient vampire stuttered a bit. "Be-because it's tradition. That's the way we've done it for... several decades. Why should we change now?"

Spike folded his arms over his chest, raised one hand to his chin, tapped it with his forefinger then shrugged. "Because I say so, you git. And I'm High Master of California. If I say jump, you jump and hope it's high enough. Got me?"

The vamp gave up. "Yes, High Master, I understand."

"An' the next idiot who questions my authority will wind up chained in a small dark cell for a month... with no food." Spike glared around then amended, "Unless they'll starve to death; then, they'll be on their species' equivalent of bread and water." He looked directly at Giles, who was taking notes on the proceedings. Giles finished writing, glanced at Spike, and wondered if he should signal the end of this session. He decided not to.

"Now, I'm sick of this. You all listen up good. I don't intend to spend my valuable time arguin' with you. You're like a bunch of old ladies. This is my court. I don't care how you used to do things. This is the way you'll do them now. If I say a thing, I don't expect a bunch of argument that starts with, "But Master, that's not how we do things." If you don't have a good reason not to change something, shut up."

Giles grinned behind one hand. Things were really looking up. Spike was taking firm control of his court. He'd managed to convince everybeing that he wasn't going to just kill someone for the fun of it. There would be a reason behind it. Some reasons, Giles wasn't sure he understood, but they would be in line with demon logic. Spike's violence always had a purpose; he had known that for years. Just sometimes his purposes were so obscure that they seemed random.

Spike glared around the court again. "I have human advisors, and that's that. We're going to be dealing a lot more with the humans than you're used to. Deal with it. Now, if none of you idiots have anything useful to say, court is over." He waited exactly fifty human heart beats, the traditional amount of time to wait for an objection; no one said anything so Spike headed for the door. Everyone bowed as he passed, and he nodded to a few beings here or there. He walked out the door, slammed it, and left everyone in the room trembling slightly. The force of his fury was mind boggling. A few of the smarter individuals hoped that finding the human named Xander might calm him; otherwise, no one knew what he was capable of doing in his displeasure. He was Master, and his pleasure was their life, or death.

Giles packed up his notes and pen and headed for the door, too. He was stopped by the Castellan. "I'm sorry to be impertinent, but do you have a moment?"

Giles nodded. "Certainly. How can I help you?"

"We've borne his... ire for more than a week now. How vicious is he liable to get?"

"Spike? Very, if he's pushed hard enough. Everyone has heard him say that he won't just kill or punish for the fun of it. I've never heard of him giving his word and breaking it. But... he's very much on edge just now. So... who knows what he might take exception to? He despises being argued with. And when he says something, well… I'd just take it as law and be done with it. He has his ideas of how court is to be run and, as it is his court, I'd be very careful of contravening his word. I know of two, maybe three, beings who can get away with arguing with him. I'm one, Xander's another, then Timmins, and...that's about it. Tara won't, nor will Bud. So, now you have it."

The Castellan nodded. "I see. So... he'll ignore my advice?"

"No, he won't ignore it, if it's properly offered. He'll consider nearly everything he's told. He just may not take your advice. He'll make up his own mind. Anything else?"

"No. Thank you. I have much to consider. Excuse me." The Castellan walked away. Giles watched him for a moment hoping the vampire had decided to be a help instead of a hindrance.

O

Xander woke with a pounding head and a vague all over body ache. He managed to drag himself out of bed, into the shower, and in the general direction of the kitchen. The coffee maker was on auto so he poured himself a cup with a trembling hand and stuffed some bread into the toaster. When it popped, he slathered it with peanut butter and scarfed it down in three bites. He had to gulp coffee to keep from choking on the sticky mass.

His jog to work left him much more breathless than it should have, and he sat down in the back room for a moment. He knew the protections in both his torc and his beads were wearing thin. He was feeling the urge to return to Spike more and more strongly. He was having trouble keeping food down, and he was thirsty all the time. He ached, and his hands were starting to palsy. He wondered if he could find Spike then decided to just give up. Spike would find him sooner or later.

He limped his way through an unexpected double-shift that day and hoped that no one would notice. His hope was in vain. Mamacita noticed his lethargy and called him on it.

"Xander, come here. You are not well. What is it?" She pressed her palm to his forehead.

"I'm not sick. I think the spells are wearing out. I just feel... I'm not sure how to describe it. Like I've got the flu, only not really. I ache all over. I can't eat; my stomach keeps turning. My endurance is way down. I'm just, in general, a mess."

"Papa has said that he will put a pre-petition in with the Master of the City for your protection. If he comes through, your... lover will not be able to bother you. We're not powerful people, but we might be able to help you."

Xander turned pale. "You know the Master of the City? Please tell me Papa hasn't sent in that petition yet."

Angelina shook her head. "He's still trying to compose it. Why?"

Xander took a deep breath and sighed. "If he sends that petition in, then I'm sunk. He'll tell Spike and then he'll find me and then he'll ..." Xander took another breath, staving off a spate of babble that was sure to either frighten or confuse Angelina, or both. "Just don't. Ok?"

"I'll talk to him right away. You go have something nice to eat. Get some of that caramella. Shoo!"

Xander went into the kitchen and settled at the tiny table near the back door. It was cooler there, and all the employees used it for their breaks. One of the kitchen helpers brought Xander a bowl of the caramel-flavored custard and a cup of coffee. All the help knew that Xander was ill in some way; they couldn't help from it. They all brought him treats or made him special foods, trying to tempt him to eat. It worked most of the time. This time, Xander just poked at the custard and worried.

What was going to happen to him when Spike finally caught up to him? He would, Xander was sure of that, he just wasn't sure when. With a shake of his head, he cast off his worries and ate his treat. He didn't really want it, but it was a shame to waste it, and he did need the nourishment.

O

Mr. and Mrs. Pena had a little discussion about what to do about Xander. They decided that sending in the petition to the Master of Las Vegas to approve and forward to the Master of California was still a good idea. Little did they know how good an idea it really was. Xander was nearing the end of his endurance; the spell was working on him, and he was near a real breakdown. Spike was frantic and rapidly reaching the breaking point. Giles and Timmins were worrying more and more. Tara was exhausting herself. Bud was just disgusted.

Spike was pacing his office when Bud came in. Spike looked up then his shoulders slumped.

"No word?"

Bud shook his head. "No, Las Vegas is huge. Searching the Strip alone is such a huge task that it would take literally years. The outlying areas... it's just going to be luck. Pure and simple."

Spike started to say something, changed his mind, and asked carefully, "Glinda-witch come up with anything?"

"No, she's tired out. Magic is like... um... not sure what. It's just that, well, the best analogy I can come up with is money. You spend until it's gone; then, you have to save up before you can spend again. She's broke. She has tried every finder spell she knows... nada. Except that he's in Vegas. The bounty hunters are all stumped, too. I was thinking, maybe the Master of Las Vegas could come up with some help. And, just so you know, I'd like to know how the hell I wound up in charge of this dog and pony show."

"Cause I trust ya not to pull something stupid. Like tryin' ta hold 'im hostage, or for ransom. An' ya like Glinda; you'll see that she doesn't hurt herself tryin' ta find 'im. Wish... but..." Spike trailed off.

Bud just sighed and remarked, "Yeah, wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which one fills up first. I'll talk to the Master of Vegas. See ya."

Spike watched the demon walk out the door.

It didn't take Bud long to speak to the Master of Vegas. He wasn't very well pleased with the results. The vampire wasn't interested in helping; in fact, he announced that if Master Spike couldn't keep his hands on his property, he deserved to lose it. Bud just shrugged, remarked mildly that Spike was in a 'mood', and went back to report to Spike.

Spike listened to Bud's report and snarled, "An' why do we keep him around? Giles?"

Giles checked a small book he extracted from his pocket. "Well, according to my notes, he's the one who keeps the casinos in line, organizes the demonic entertainments and, in general, keeps the human tourists and the 'other' tourists from killing each other. We don't really need him at all. I think ..." His sarcastic tone said more than his expression, which was bland.

"I think that would be a perfect job to keep Xander occupied, with your help." Spike rode over Giles firmly. "You advise him, he provides the muscle, backed by my authority. Yeah?"

Giles just sighed and nodded; it wasn't like he'd thought of it first. Spike was proving that he respected Xander more than any of the Scooby Gang ever had. It shamed him more than he wanted to admit.

"I know that Xander is capable of handling a job like that, with proper training. Which, I'm sure, you'll provide. Convincing Xander of it is another thing entirely."

Spike snorted. "Don't have to convince him of anything. I'll just tell him he's to do it, and he will. Simple. As soon as we find the prat."

Giles rubbed his face at that. "I know. I'm truly worried about him. What if... well, what ifing isn't going to get us anywhere. Is there any news at all?" Giles turned a hopeful look at Bud.

The demon sighed and shook his head. "Not a squeak. I've got a couple of ideas, but I need to sort of work on them. Give me a day or two." He held up a hand. "I know! But it's all I got."

O

Bud's 'day or two' turned out to be a week. By now Xander had been missing for just under three weeks. Spike was turning from frantic to hysterical, in a calmly homicidal fashion. The Master of Vegas was no help at all. Spike had a feeling that something was going on with him, and he intended to find out what.

He sent Giles to talk to the master vampire.

O

"Master Spike has sent me to see if you have any further information on Xander Harris. Would it be alright with you if I talked to your secretary?" Giles kept his voice carefully neutral. He didn't like this vampire and could feel that all he really wanted to do was cause trouble. Why, he wasn't sure, but he was sure it was true.

"Help yourself, human, if my secretary doesn't eat you first." The High Master waved his hand in dismissal. Giles turned and left the court, finding the secretary waiting right outside the door.

"Are you going to try to eat me?"

"No, I value my skin a lot more than I value a meal. Come with me. And I hope you will tell Master Spike that I was cooperative."

Giles smirked to himself. "I'll be sure to do exactly that. It would be even more to your advantage if you have something that is actually helpful.

"I think I do. Here. It's a pre petition. The actual petition hasn't been submitted yet. I like to have these if possible; it saves a lot of trouble. Some submissions just aren't to the Master's taste. So there are pre-petitions; reviewing them saves my master from receiving something he knows that he won't approve and send on... just read it."

Giles read the short document. It was a request for help with some bruja's friend. But the symptoms were exactly what Xander would be suffering from by now. He raised one eyebrow and reread the paper. It had to be Xander; thankfully, he wasn't in dire straits, yet.

"I'd like to take this with me, and if there's an address, I'd like that, too."

The secretary wrote the address on the bottom of the page and handed it back to Giles. "Since this is a pre-petition, you can have it. Here, please?"

"I'll be sure to tell him that you were as helpful as you could be. I think he'll probably be here soon. How long have you had this?"

"A couple of days. The Pena's are good people. They don't want anything much to do with the court. The lady is not very strong and of no use to the court, but she knows people. If you know what I mean."

"And why wasn't it handed on?" Giles tucked the information the nervously babbling vampire gave him away for further consideration at another time.

"I wanted to give it to you at once, the boy sounds exactly like the description, but he wouldn't let me. He said that Master Spike would do just like the other, Angelus, did and disappear soon. We didn't need to fawn on him. But... I've heard things. Master Spike is really William the Bloody, right?" Giles just nodded. "He... he. I..." The vampire gulped and trembled. "I just hope that he realizes that I did my best. I'm between a rock and a hard place."

"I'll tell him that you did your best. You managed to get this into my hands. Thank you. If you're really worried, why don't you just make yourself scarce for a few days? Take a sabbatical."

"I believe I'll do just that. I might take a few files home with me to study in detail. If you know what I mean." The vampire started tucking files into a huge briefcase. He squeezed it shut and just walked out, leaving a hastily scribbled note in the middle of his desk.

Giles took his information to Spike and waited for the blow up. It didn't come, and Giles trembled in his shoes. Spike was so angry that he just stood there for a moment.

"I need Ripper. Come, get Bud and Timmins. We'll go and have a bit of a talk with the ex-Master of Las Vegas. Before we go find Xander. I don' wanna be distracted from 'im by dealing with that git later"

Giles gave Spike a truly feral grin, rolled his tongue across his lower lip, and turned for the door. He turned back, remarked, "I'll just change clothing, shall I?", and he left.

It didn't take him long to gather Bud and Timmins, tell Tara what they were going to do, and get to the garage. He nearly howled his approval when he saw the motorcycles: Harleys, 1979 mint-condition, 1979 Fat Bobs to be exact. Huge, black, menacing and elegant.

Spike nodded. "Who can drive, and who needs to ride?"

Bud mounted one bike and grinned before donning his full face helmet. Timmins got on behind him. Giles mounted another of the bikes. Spike blinked for a moment. The Watcher was in full Ripper mode. He was wearing well-worn jeans, square-toed biker boots, a flannel shirt over a t-shirt, and a scuffed and worn leather jacket. Spike raised an eyebrow then nodded his approval.

They mounted and roared way.

They rode the two miles from the Luxor underground garage to the Palms, turning heads all the way.

They pulled up to the door of the underground entrance to the residence of the Master of Las Vegas. It was more a palace, but was called, as all city masters' homes were, the Residence. Spike looked around with interest, decided the place was common, and demanded to see the master.

The first rank of minions knew better than to argue with someone who felt as powerful as Spike did, so they let the group through. Timmins just sniffed in disgust. Spike had to take another look at his usually very well-dressed valet. Timmins didn't look anything like himself. He was dressed in canvas trousers with a double fly, like a sailor's, heavy boots, a dark brown denim shirt, and a canvas duster. He and Bud seemed to have put their heads together to decide what they wanted to wear.

The second rank of fledges and minions started to argue, took a good look at Spike, and caved in, too, waiving them through to the next rank.

The third rank of interference was made up of mostly upper rank fledges, most of them nearing minor master status.

This group did try to keep Spike from violating the conventions of the court, but a feral snarl and two vampires in game face, and a demon and human with fierce glares, backed them off after a short confrontation.

Spike stomped up to the fourth and final group of guards. This group was all minor masters, but they didn't hold up the group for long. Giles was the first one to demand entrance; he was refused with every evidence of contempt.

"Fine then. I'll just open the way." Giles pulled a stake out of his sleeve and staked the door guard. Spike followed up with a stake of his own. Bud danced back from a sword thrust, and Timmins just ripped the head right off the last guard.

"Careful. There's only three of them. That's not enough for a person like him." No one needed to question who 'he' was. Nor was Spike wrong. The group that emerged from the double doors behind the first three of the inner circle was made up of low level masters, or high level fledges, depending on how you wanted to look at it.

They surrounded Spike and the other three interlopers and stood, waiting.

"I'm High Master William the Bloody. I want to talk to the Master of Las Vegas. And what the hell is the prat's name?"

"Grover Goodness."

Spike blinked, Bud snickered, and Giles frankly laughed. Poor Timmins just sighed. The vampire door guard glared, but not for long. Spike poked him in the chest with one finger. "I want to see Grover. Now! Lead off."

The leader of the group glowered at Spike who glowered back. It seemed that Spike's glower outweighed the other vampire's, as he turned and stalked away. They followed.

They entered a large ornate room. Spike looked around, turned to Giles, and remarked, "Bad taste. I ought to dust him just for this." He gestured around the gaudy room in contempt.

Giles shrugged. "Give him a chance."

Bud just backed them up, keeping an eye on 'the locals'.

Master Goodness didn't have the sense God gave a goose, as Timmins would say later. He started out on the wrong foot.

"I am the Master here. Who did you say you were supposed to be?"

Spike sauntered towards him, smirking. "Actually, I'm the master here. William the Bloody, aka Spike. High Master of the Domain of California. If you want all my titles, you'll have to ask Timmins." Timmins wisely kept his mouth shut.

Spike watched his subordinate to see what he would do now. How he managed to dig his grave even deeper was beyond stupid.

"You're no one here. You don't have any authority over me. I don't care what you say." He puffed himself up to look larger and more important. He thought, since Spike was smaller than he, that he could overawe him this way. Unfortunately for him, Spike was a childe of Angelus; all the act did was annoy Spike even more.

"Cute. Blow up like a fugu, see if I care. Now, get to the point. You got something I want; hand it over."

Master Goodness got a cunning look in his eye. "And what do I get if I do?"

Spike figuratively threw his hands in the air. "Your life. If I'm feelin' charitable after I see it."

Giles touched Spike on the shoulder. "It's a petition. We're looking for the name Xander Harris. If you like, I'll go find it myself."

The sneer he got made him boil. Spike just sneered back.

"No, Watcher, he'll produce it like a good little minion. Or I'll stake him myself."

Bud grinned at Timmins; that had probably done the trick. If the Master of Las Vegas didn't lose his temper now, he'd probably survive; if he lost it, he'd lose his life, too.

He lost it. His roar of rage hadn't quit echoing when he charged Spike. Spike danced out of the way like a bull fighter from a bull. Spike gave him a simple push from behind; this propelled him right toward the stake Bud was holding. Giles helpfully tripped him.

Timmins shook his head sadly. "Master Spike? I am not cleaning that mess up."

Spike just shrugged. "Isn't that what he had minions for? Find me my papers. And round up all the newbies, I want 'em brought up proper. Timmins, see to that. All fledges and minions are to pledge fealty to me at my next court... or else."

No one bothered to ask what 'or else' meant; no one really wanted to know. Spike's orders were obeyed at once. He smirked as he watched the minions scramble around.

"This court is closed. I'm master here and don't you forget it. Giles, you said the clerk or whatever had taken off?" Giles nodded. "You got the address he gave you, right?" Giles nodded again. "Then what's the hold up? Now that we got things under control here."

"Nothing. I'm just following you. Xander's address better check out though, or I'll be seriously annoyed."

Giles thought for a second then shrugged, a very Ripperish shrug. "Don't think the man lied to me; he was too anxious for me to tell you that he'd done his best. Let's go, I want to find Xander."

O

Xander was leaning against the alley wall when he heard the cycles roar up. He felt so bad, weak and trembling, head aching, that he didn't even look up.

He heard the talking in the kitchen, but the voices were so soft that he didn't understand them. He felt something let loose inside him. He sighed sadly. Spike was very near.

"Pet? Xander?" Xander turned to see Spike standing in the door of the kitchen. He started slightly; he'd hoped for a bit more time, but it was what it was. He dropped to his knees in the dirty alleyway and waited.

Spike was shocked at Xander's appearance. He looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks, but he worked in a restaurant so he knew that wasn't true. He started to go to Xander and found that he was prevented by several men who inserted themselves between him and 'his'.

"Sorry, hesse, you don't get to bother him. You messed up when you came here."

Spike looked from one man to another. They were all human and had no idea what they were messing with. "Giles, talk to them." Spike stepped back, even though everything in him said to fight. He wasn't going to gain any points with Xander by hurting people who were only trying to protect him.

Giles stepped forward and nodded to the men. "Do you want this in Spanish or English?" There were some snarls but they all said 'English' and went back to glowering. "Very well, down and dirty. This is Master Spike; if you don't know what I mean by that then we're all in trouble." But it seemed that all of them did know; they looked at each other uncomfortably, but stood their ground. "Good. Xander is his thrall, and before you all get your ire up, Master Spike didn't do it. But that doesn't make any difference; the fact remains. Xander ran away because Spike did something extremely stupid. Now he has to make amends and get Xander back home. Go on about your business!"

Mr. Pena joined the group, looking extremely fierce. "We'll do no such thing. I saw. No one should treat another so. You can remove the curse! Do so and leave him in peace."

Giles looked over his shoulder at Spike. "No go, now what?"

Spike stepped forward and sighed. "Ok. I did wrong. And Xander took off, no matter the cost... to either of us. I got ta take him home, or he'll just keep getting worse and worse. I can't take the curse off; I didn't put it on. The witch who put it on him is extremely powerful and... stupid. She made a mistake, and we're stuck with the results. Let me talk to Xander. Ok?"

While all this had been going on, Xander had just stayed kneeling. He was too tired and ill to do more. When he heard Giles say that Spike admitted he'd made a mistake, he felt a rush of warmth; maybe things could be put right. Maybe.

The whole group looked at each other, but before anyone could say much Senora Pena showed up. Angelina pointed to two of the nearby men. "You two get him into the kitchen, and no arguments. The alley is too dirty for all this. Go! Shoo!" She turned on Spike with what Xander had called 'The Deadly Glare of Offended Motherhood'. She shook a finger in Spike's face. "And what were you thinking; I'd like to know, Mr. Temper!"

Spike just gave her a rather shamefaced look. "Wasn't thinkin', now was I? Now I got ta make it up ta 'im, don't I?"

"And how are you going to do that?" She folded her arms across her chest and pinned him with a stern look. Spike actually remembered that look from his own, long ago, childhood.

"Don't know yet. First, I'm gonna take him back to the mansion under the Luxor and get him well. Then, we'll see. I'm gonna take the advice of Giles and Timmins on that. They're two of my advisors. Bud is Xander's bodyguard." Spike pointed to Bud, who grinned hesitantly and gave her a vague wave.

The woman frowned at Bud for a moment then, obviously recognizing something about him, nodded once. She turned back to Spike. "Bodyguard? Humpf! I'm gonna take a good look at you. You stand still."

Spike just raised an eyebrow and obeyed. Angelina looked him up and down then stared into his eyes for a moment. She stepped back. "OK, you love him. You were bad to him, though. What's to keep you from doing it again?"

"Me. I want him. Not some scared thrall. I... he's... damn it!" Spike ran a hand through his hair, glaring.

"Good, good. You take him. But remember, he has a place here. Now, the Master of California don't know me, but I know the Master of the City. He owes me. Not much, but maybe enough. Remember that."

Spike just smiled at her. "I'll remember. If you petition the Master of California... that's me. I'll grant you anything within my power. Now... I've got to see to my boy. I'll be taking him home."

"I think you must. I just hope you realize what a treasure you have. If he needs me, call me. And you be good to him, or you'll answer to me. Understand?"

Spike could have been insulted; instead, he chose to be amused. "Yes, I understand. I'll let him keep in touch. I promise. Now... can I take him back to my mansion and have him tended?"

Angelina gave him a look, glanced around at the men behind her, then nodded. Spike endured the looks from them all for a moment then turned and entered the kitchen.

He went to Xander immediately. He looked like hell and was just standing in the middle of a rather busy kitchen. Giles was standing near him, trying to persuade him to come into the banquet room for some privacy. Spike just took Xander by the hand and led him into the room.

"Now, Xander?" Xander raised his head, blinked a bit owlishly then just waited. "Pet, it's hurting you to stay here, but I don't want to force you to do something. Will you come home with me?"

Xander sighed. "Yeah. I'm tired, I hurt all over. I can't eat, or sleep. Can I say good-bye to people?"

Spike smiled sadly. Trust Xander to think of others before himself. "Yeah, pet, we'll go by your digs and pick up your stuff. Say good-bye to who ever ya need to. When ya feel better we'll come back for a visit. Ok?"

Xander smiled a little hesitantly then said, softly, "That'd be nice. Can I say good-bye to the Pena's now?" Spike just nodded.

Xander went to the door, walking like a tired old man. He hadn't opened it when there was a soft knock. Xander just opened the door to see Senora Pena standing outside with a small bag in her hand.

"Xander, good. Here, take this. There's a medicinal tea and some candy. You going with him?"

"You knew I would, or you wouldn't have packed this. Thanks. I think... I really think things are going to be ok. I'll call you in a day or two. Ok?"

"Sure, pequino, you call. You going by your place?"

Spike wrapped an arm around Xander, who was swaying dangerously. "Yeah, we'll drop by his digs and get his stuff. Say bye to whomever, all that. Thanks for the tea. I've got a healer on call, just waiting for me to find him. His name's Santo Azor. Know him?"

Senora Pena nodded, a happy expression blooming on her face. "Oh, yes, I know Santo. He's the best in Vegas. Glad to see that you'll let humans work for you. He's always had trouble before because he's not a demon."

Spike waved his hand. "Don't care. Human, demon, hybrid. I'll have the best, or I'll know the reason why. We better get going. We're on bikes, and I need to get Xander to his digs and on to the mansion before he falls over."

Mamacita kissed Xander on the forehead, just like he'd seen her do with her own children. It made him feel better about leaving. He knew that Spike would let him keep in contact with the kindly couple; he'd promised, and Xander was going to trust that promise. He sighed, hugged her, and turned to see Mr. Pena waiting for his turn. He held out his hand; Xander took it, pressed it gently, and said another soft 'Good-bye'. Spike guided him to the door before he broke down.

Giles had spoken to the couple and several of the busboys and servers then followed, tucking a small book back into his pocket.

"I have all the names and addresses, phone numbers, anything Xander might need to keep in contact. I'm ready." Giles eyed Xander with concern; he was drooping visibly already. "He going to make it, or should we head for home?"

Xander shook his head, pushing himself up from where he was practically lying on Spike. "No! I need to go by my place first. I... I'll be ok. Just... let's not take too long."

Spike nodded to Giles, who just shrugged and mounted his bike. Bud let Timmins get settled then they were off again.

This time it didn't take more than four or five minutes to get where they were going. Giles seemed to know exactly where to go from just the address Xander gave him; shows what you can do with a map and a good memory.

O

Xander leaned against Spike's back and just relaxed. He felt a great deal better just being near Spike. And he was starving. He was so hungry, his stomach grumbled loudly.

He realized Spike had heard it when he stiffened. Xander muttered, "Don't even, Spike, I haven't been hungry since I left. Except for once or twice. I'll get something nice to eat once I'm done getting my stuff and saying good-bye." He knew Spike had heard him, even over the rumbling of the Harleys.

That same rumble warned Mr. Jones that something was up. It was very unusual for motorcycles to park at the apartment complex so he went out to see what was happening.

The sight that met his eyes was unusual in the extreme. He knew gangs, and this one was dangerous, no matter the size. He was just getting ready to call the cops when he realized that Xander was one of the bikers.

Xander glanced around then relaxed; they were standing under the stairs to the second level. He gazed out into the darkness for a moment then turned to Mr. Jones.

"Hey. Some friends found me. I... um... came to get my stuff. I'm going to live with them now." Xander kicked at a small stone on the breezeway. "So... um... guess I'll go pack. See ya?"

Mr. Jones just nodded and watched Xander descend the stairs. When he was out of sight, Mr. Jones turned to Giles, who looked more like the leader than Spike did, at least to Mr. Jones.

"Ok, what's really going on here? When that boy came here, he was obviously running. Now he's just going with you?"

Giles nodded. It didn't take him long to explain everything to Mr. Jones in a way he could understand. He put it all down to a lover's quarrel, and Xander being ill. "So, you see, Xander's not well. As if you couldn't tell already. But he doesn't want to admit it. We'll take him home with us and take care of him. He'll give you a call in a few days. Here's my card. If you want to talk to him before he calls you, call that number. I'll see what I can do." Mr. Jones took the card, turning it in work-calloused fingers.

"You see that he calls me no later than Wednesday next week. If you don't, I'll come lookin'. That boy has a good heart, an' I won't see him hurt. Got me?"

Giles nodded. "Indeed I do. Believe me, I'll see that he's taken care of."

Mr. Jones looked Giles up then down. "I believe you. No one lies with that look in their eye." Mr. Jones settled to lean against the wall until Xander came back up the stairs. "Don't know what to do with you, boy. I just get used to havin' you around an' off you go. And the big boss owes you a bunch of money. I'll see what I can do towards getting' it for you."

Xander fidgeted for a moment. "Don't bother. Someone's going to show up, needing a hand; give it to them. I'm taken care of. I don't really need the money now... um... sorry about taking off like this, but... see,.." Xander gave Mr. Jones a pleading look.

"Don't fret. It'll be fine. I'll do what you say. I know a guy, someone I trust to help me. I'll see if he won't come. You go on now. Go with them. I can see that they all care about you. You're a lucky guy." Mr. Jones swept the group with a look that said he'd better be right. Giles just raised an eyebrow, Spike sniffed, and both Timmins and Bud nodded.

Xander shook hands with Mr. Jones, promised to keep in touch, and handed over his key to the tool room. Then he gave his small bag and his weapon to a waiting Timmins. Timmins took the bag and weapon, mounted behind Bud and settled. He was going to give Young Master Xander a large piece of his mind the minute he had a chance.

Spike gently tugged Xander back to the bike, got him settled, and headed for home.

O

When they got to the mansion they were greeted by the door guards who wanted to smell Xander. Xander eyed them for a second then just submitted. Spike kept a close eye on them, but none of them tried anything.

"All right, pet?" Spike slipped an arm around Xander's waist and helped him in the door.

"Fine, fine. Just really tired. Can I sleep before we fight?" Xander gave Spike 'The Puppy Dog Eyes of Doom'. Spike crumbled at once, not that he hadn't planned it that way anyway.

"Sure, pet. We'll get you into a nice bed and let you sleep until you wake up. You'll be hungry by then, for sure."

Xander sighed. "I'm starved now. Maybe I should eat first? I don't know. I'm too tired to make up my mind." He sagged slightly and swerved towards a chair.

"Nu-uh, no chair. Just a few more steps, and we'll be in your quarters. Not that you'll need them for long. Just until you're feelin' more the thing."

Xander patted Spike's hand. "I love it when you get all Victorian."

Spike just picked Xander up and carried him into the bed room. It was a rather strange sight as Xander was at least five inches taller than he.

Timmins had nipped in behind Spike and turned down the bed for them. Spike settled Xander on the sheets in an instant. Timmins started unbuttoning Xander's jeans while Spike got his boots off. Then they switched places, and Spike pulled Xander's jeans and shorts off while Timmins worked on his t-shirt. Xander just lay quiescent while they worked, lifting his legs for Spike then sitting up for Timmins.

He sighed in relief when they finished. He still ached, and all he really wanted was sleep if he couldn't have food, and it didn't look like any was in his immediate future.

"I'll be right back with something for the Young Master to eat. I don't want to feed him anything too heavy just yet. If he sleeps on a heavy meal, he's sure to have nightmares."

Spike just nodded, stripped off his clothing, and climbed into bed with Xander. Xander unconsciously snuggled up to him and started to drift off. His growling stomach woke him up again.

Timmins came in the door just as Xander was going to complain. "Here you go. Chicken and dumplings , with carrots and peas. A bit of apple crumble and some herbal tea. Eat slowly, or you'll be sick."

Xander just swallowed, his mouth suddenly full of saliva. "Looks so good. Thanks." He settled in to eat his food, savoring every bit. Mamacita was a good cook, and the food at the restaurant was excellent, too. But there was nothing like 'home' cooking.

Spike watched him, smiling gently. "That's it, pet. Eat up. Get better quick."

Xander eyed Spike over a spoonful of apples. "Why are you suddenly calling me 'pet'? You never did before. What are you up to? Or do I really want to know?"

Spike gently guided the spoon to Xander's lips. "Eat. I'm callin' ya pet now because I want to. Always did, but I was afraid of scarin' ya off. Now, we both know you're not goin' anywhere."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Ok, I get it. And, you know? I kinda like it. I'm sorry I ran, but..."

Spike just pressed one finger to Xander's lips. "Hush, pet. We'll argue this all out when you're feeling better. The Healer will be here in a while. Sleep until he gets here. I'll have him check out that tea that Mrs. Pena gave you. I don't want you takin' anything until we're sure what it is."

"Ok, I don't think she'd give me anything that'd hurt me, but better safe than sorry."

Spike agreed, whispering softly. "Yeah, should have thought of that earlier."

O

Xander slept, woke, bathed and shaved, then slept some more. When he woke again, it was evening, or Vampire morning, he wasn't sure which. He didn't much care, either; he was hungry.

"Timmins!" Timmins stuck his head in the door. "I'm hungry. Where's Spike? Is he really, really mad, or just sort of mad, or somewhere in between? And where am I? Or should I even ask?"

Timmins just smiled. "I'm glad to see that you're feeling better. I'll get you something to eat in a moment. And I'll tell Master Spike that you're awake."

Spike was actually waiting in the kitchen area for Timmins to tell him Xander was up. He was determined to make sure that Xander rested and ate before they had any sort of confrontation. He was going to do this right.

Timmins finished making up Xander's tray and handed it to Spike. Spike headed for Xander's room with Timmins trailing behind. Timmins opened the door for Spike and shut it behind him; going back to the kitchen seemed like the best idea. He'd keep an ear out, just in case.

Spike took the tray to Xander, helped him sit up, and settled on the bed beside him. "Here ya go, pet. Bacon, eggs, toast, jelly, juice, coffee, ya want anything else, ask for it."

Xander gazed sadly at Spike. "Your accent's gone all bad boy again. Why?"

Spike blinked, shrugged and grumbled, "Have no idea how worried I've been. Accent goes all weird on me when I'm not thinking."

"Well, I like both, but I really think you need to make up your mind, or use your Oxford accent at court and the pseudo-Cockney one for casual. And can I please have my food?"

Spike laughed and settled the tray more comfortably over Xander's legs. Xander picked up a fork and started eating. He moaned in pleasure and mumbled around a mouthful of eggs. "Nothin' like Timmins' cooking. His eggs are... mmmmmm"

Spike watched as Xander hungrily devoured the food on his tray and settled back with his coffee. He'd used the orange juice to wash down the toast.

"How do you feel now?"

Xander sighed. "Better. Not good, but lots better. I'll be good in a couple of days."

Spike rubbed his face. "Pet, we need to have a real talk."

Xander made a face. "Later, ok? I just want to enjoy feeling decent for a bit. Please?" He kept his eyes on his coffee.

"Alright, pet. Later. I'll be havin' the healer to ya soon. He was supposed to be here by now, but a... I forget, but some female is havin' trouble delivering a litter. He'll be here as soon as he's able. And you'll do what he says, yeah?"

"I promise." Xander finished his coffee and settled back, leaning against the pillows with a sigh. "I... Spike, I know we have to talk, and I know what about, but could we just ignore it for a bit?"

Spike took Xander's hand in his; it felt frail somehow so he just stroked the talented fingers gently. "Sure. I got some stuff ta say, and I know you'll be upset so we'll just hold it until you feel like dealing. Sleepy again?"

Xander shifted restlessly. "Not really. And I'm comfortable, just not really sleepy."

Timmins just walked in with a small TV/DVD set and put it down on the side table, then moved the table to the foot of the bed. "There. I have the new Indiana Jones movie. I'm sure you'd like to see that."

Timmins inserted the DVD and turned on the unit. Xander gave him a grin and settled back to watch; Spike just sighed and resigned himself.

O

Spike breathed a sigh of relief. Xander had fallen asleep during the final credits of the movie. Spike ran a hand through Xander's soft hair; it was really getting long, and his warlocks were ragged. Spike decided to take them out; removing the beads wouldn't do Xander any harm now.

As he worked, Spike admired Xander. He'd thinned down a bit, losing more weight than he could really afford, but they'd make up for that quickly. Timmins was already planning the menu for the next few weeks.

Xander sighed softly, asleep.

Spike murmured, more to himself than Xander, "Good. Rest, pet. I'll redo your locks when I'm done brushing out your hair. It's a bit tangled here and there." He started to run his fingers through Xander's hair more purposefully. When he was sure Xander wasn't going to wake up, he brushed the long chocolate locks until they were silky and smooth. He re-braided the warlocks, putting the beads back in. He smiled at the effect. Xander had earned his warlocks ten times over.

Xander slept on, and on. Timmins had to reassure Spike several times that the healer was on his way, and that Xander was just recovering from the effects of their separation. Spike still paced the kitchen restlessly until the healer arrived.

When he met the man a short while later, Spike was in a bit of a state.

"Healer Azor. Glad you're finally here. Xander's asleep. Do ya wanna wake 'im? Or do ya wanna ask me questions first?"

"Call me Santo. Healer Azor is my mother. I'll just take a look at... Xander?" Spike nodded. "If he's suffering from what I think he is; there's not much to worry about. He'll be fine in a few days."

Spike led the way to Xander.

All Xander had done was roll over onto his back. Healer Azor looked at him, waved a bundle of herbs over him, changed the herbs for a hazel twig, with which he touched him on the forehead. "Hmmmm, not in bad shape at all. The spell kicked in with a vengeance, but his protections worked fairly well. He's a bit dehydrated, too thin, and his nerves are a mess. I'll give you a prescription for some tea, and I want him to eat a well-balanced diet, heavy on protein. Lots of fresh stuff. And, ice cream. Tempt him with his favorite dishes. And no punishment until he's better." He scribbled on a small pad, tore off the sheet of paper and handed it to Spike. "Here is the prescription; you can get it made up at any herbalists shop. Or have someone in your court make it up, if you trust them better."

Spike took the paper and handed it to Timmins. "Giles? Or someone else."

Timmins didn't even glance at it. "Mr. Giles, definitely. He'll be terribly insulted if you hand it off to someone else. He'll probably have Miss Tara help him, just so she'll feel useful. She's feeling like she let you down."

Spike shook his head. "I'll have a talk with her later. Get this made up now. I'll be wanting it as soon as I'm done here."

He turned back to talk to Healer Azor. It didn't take the healer long to get Spike's measure. He finally left, sure that Spike was going to take proper care of Xander.

Spike had shaken hands with the healer and gone in search of Timmins and Giles. He found Giles and Tara instead.

Giles was smelling a bottle of something green with a doubtful look on his face. Tara was laughing at him.

"It's fine, Mr. Giles, I bought it two weeks ago." She turned at the slight scuffing noise of Spike's boot against the floor. "Oh, hi, we're working on Xander's tea. Is he going to be Ok?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah, he's just worn out from resisting the curse. He's a stubborn one. Is that his tea? Or are you working on something else?" His expression told them that he was teasing.

Tara gave him a swat on the shoulder. "You! Of course it's his tea. Smell." She stuck the bottle under his nose. "Fresh?"

Spike snorted, trying to get the alfalfa smell out of his sinuses. "Fresh? Bloody hell. Smells like new mown hay."

Giles took the unstoppered bottle and poured some of the contents into the pan of a scale. He checked the weight and dumped it into a large bowl. "I'm almost done. He's to have a cup of this, exactly six ounces of fresh, boiling water poured over one table spoon of herbs in a ceramic brewer. I believe you have one?" Spike just nodded. "Every four hours until the physician orders otherwise."

Spike sighed. "Oh, and that's going to be so much fun. Bet it tastes as foul as it smells."

Giles just nodded. "You know it. But Xander is fairly good about taking medicine."

"Doesn't make any difference. Hate ta tell him he has to have it. I know he hates it."

Tara smiled, handed Spike a brown paper bag and told him, "Here, give him one of these if he takes it without complaining. He likes Lindt chocolates."

Spike opened the bag and eyed the candy. "You sure?"

She snickered. "He snitched Willow's once. She wasn't really happy."

O

Spike took Xander's first cup of tea to him. He shook Xander gently by the shoulder, waking him. "Oi! Up, pet. Got a goodie for ya."

Xander rubbed his eyes and sat up. Spike felt his heart lighten, Xander looked so much better. The dark circles under his eyes had faded and his pallor was receding into his usual tan. "I'm up." He perked up even more as Spike's words penetrated his weary brain. "Goodie? Twinkies?"

"No, but I'll send out for some. After you drink your tea." Spike handed Xander the cup.

Xander smelled the tea a bit doubtfully. After a good whiff, he made a face. "Spike, this stinks. I suppose it's good for me." He took an experimental sip. "Oh, bleh! That's awful. It tastes like it smells. Please, don't make me drink it." He gave Spike a pitiful look.

"Don't give me that look. You have to drink it. The doctor said."

Xander sighed and gulped the tea in several distasteful swallows. "Is this part of my punishment?"

Spike settled beside Xander before saying, "Oh, there's a punishment coming up. You can bet on it. We'll talk about it later, yeah?"

Xander just sighed, accepted the chocolates Spike handed him, and leaned against him. "Yeah. I know."


	29. Chapter 29

Xander finished his tea and sighed. The stuff was noxious; even the Lindt chocolates couldn't kill the taste. Not that he'd turn them down. Never turn down chocolates, that was Xander's opinion. He sighed again and rolled over.

He wondered when he and Spike were going to have their talk. And who was going to do the screaming. He was afraid it would be him, but then again, Spike had promised Mr. And Mrs. Pena that he'd take good care of him. He sighed for the third time. He was beginning to wish Spike would just get it over with.

"Pet? You done with your tea? Lunch will be ready in a little while." Spike crawled on the bed with Xander and rubbed his arm.

"I'm done. But I really don't like it. It tastes like moldy socks smell. And even chocolate won't cover it. How much longer do I have to drink it and when can I get out of bed? It's been three days." Xander knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn't help it. He was getting more and more restless as time went on. He wasn't allowed out of bed except to go to the bathroom, shower, shave, and take one measly walk down the hall. It was making him crazy.

"You can walk in your garden tomorrow. After the healer sees you. Until he gives his permission, you stay in bed. Ya wanna watch a movie or something?"

"No, I don't wanna watch a movie. I want to get up and do something." Xander's unconscious mimicry made Spike wince.

"Well, you can't. Not until the healer gives his permission. So stuff it. Movie or no?"

Xander sulked, but grumbled, "Movie. Is there anything I haven't seen four times?"

"Yeah. I got Bud to go get you some new ones." He shuffled through the pile and then offered Xander the only ones he was sure Xander hadn't seen. Xander picked one, and Spike stuffed it into the DVD player and pushed play.

Xander settled comfortably against Spike and relaxed. So far Spike hadn't done anything about their talk; he'd made sure Xander didn't either, and that was what had Xander so worried.

"Spike, about our talk...."

"Not now. Not until the healer clears you. Then we'll talk. Now, shush, this is a good part."

Spike refused to say another word and threatened to turn off the TV if Xander insisted. Xander settled back again, grumbling.

Spike was laughing in his ear. "Good boy. I know you're getting restless; it's a sign that you're healing. But I'm not takin' chances on you havin' a relapse."

Xander nodded his understanding. "Ok, I'll be good. But once the healer clears me, I'm working out with Master Bruce and walking in my... wait a sec, my garden? Wha'? How, who... I mean. Huh?"

Spike smiled at Xander's confusion. "It's been moved here. Most of it was in containers, and the rest was in planter boxes. I had the containers moved whole, and the rest taken down and moved. Some of the plants didn't survive, and I'm really sorry about that. But the orchids and the African violets are all fine."

Xander wriggled happily. "Most of the plants that didn't survive are probably annuals; they don't like having their roots fiddled with. It's Ok. I... wow... you moved my gardens? Wow."

"Yes, I had your gardens moved and expanded. I think you'll like the Zen garden and the enlarged lily pond. All the orchids are in an Orchidarium. That one took some doing, I'll tell you. All the gardeners had no idea what to do. So I hired a human, weird guy, so he built this geodesic dome right in the middle of the gardens, and it's got humidifiers and all kinds of stuff. I like it."

Xander gave Spike a tender look that lifted his heart. "That's good." He sighed and rolled over, away from Spike. He was still pissed at him, but it was hard to stay that way, especially when Spike was trying so hard.

"Still mad at me, pet?" Spike sounded so dismal that Xander almost relented. Almost.

"Yeah, I'm still mad. I only asked one thing of you. One. And you wouldn't grant me it. Doesn't seem right somehow. Especially when I gave you everything I could." He rolled back to pin Spike with a glare. "I don't want to talk about it right now. I thought I did, but I don't. Can I please be alone now?"

Spike eased out of the bed and went to the door. "As soon as the healer comes, I'll send him in. If he says you're up to it, you can walk in your garden. I'll have Master Bruce come to see you after you get back."

"Maybe you should have him talk to the healer, too." Xander was going to make sure that he was well and up to it before he took up the Art again. He had some major training to do, and he wasn't about to make himself sick again. He wanted more training in Krav Magau and more swordsmanship. He hoped he'd be up to the training when Spike got done with him

"I will. You going to sleep now?"

Xander sighed. "No, I'd like to, but I'm all slept out. When's the healer going to be here? Did he give a time?"

"No, just this afternoon. I'll see if I can't call him. Ok?" Spike sighed as Xander just nodded. It seemed like Xander was having trouble remembering he was mad. He'd be warm and loving one second then cold and distant the next. It was driving Spike nuts. He wanted to just grab Xander and give him a good shake, but that was a very bad idea, and he knew it.

Timmins stuck his head in the door to announce the healer then made himself very scarce; he really didn't want to be around when Xander found out whether he could be up or not. If he couldn't the sulking was likely to get loud; if he could; well, all Timmins could think was the farther away the better. Xander was likely to explode either way, if Spike got on his protective kick.

The healer sighed. "Master Spike. I'd really like to see... er... your..." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. It was more than his blood was worth to call Xander by the wrong title.

"Xander, call me Xander. Get your voo-doo over with so I can go for a walk. I'm going to..." He stilled under twin glares. "Fine, fine. Just do your thing, will you?"

Healer Azor examined Xander carefully and announced that he was fine for light exercise. "And I do mean light. Not what Master Bruce says is light. I'd like to talk to him before I leave."

Spike just called Timmins to take Healer Azor to see Master Bruce. He turned to Xander and announced, "Well, come on. I want to show you the gardens and see what you want changed. You can change anything you want, you know."

Xander just got up and headed for the bathroom. He needed a shower, and his hair stank.

"Where ya goin'?"

"Shower, I stink." Xander grabbed a towel and tossed it over the top of the shower. He turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. He'd just gaped at the bathroom the first time he'd seen it. It wasn't huge by any stretch of the imagination, as long as you were eight feet tall. The bath tub was a spa bath big enough for three people, and the shower was one of the ones built of glass blocks with an overlapping door instead of a curtain or rolling door. It had six shower heads with enough settings to please any geek. Xander loved it.

He showered, washed his hair, and stepped out. He slipped on the wet floor because he'd forgotten to put down a mat. Spike grabbed him and held on until he got his feet under himself again.

"Thanks. Towel? I think I'll need two, or maybe three." He took the towels from Spike and wrapped one around his waist, draped another over his shoulders, and started drying his hair with the third. "You think I ought to cut my hair? It's getting really long. I like it, but... it's a bit hard to take care of."

Spike shook his head. "I like it. If you like it, we'll just have to figure out how to take care of it. What do you need?"

"Well, first I need these war locks out again. They're all messy, and then I need someone to comb it out right. If I do it, there's always a knot right at the back of my neck." Xander held the comb in one hand and looked at Spike a bit doubtfully.

"I can do that. Took care of my Dark Princess for years, didn't I? She had hair down to here for over half a century." Spike gestured with one hand near his waist. "Here, give me that."

Xander handed over the comb and settled on a small stool Spike pulled out of the towel closet. He pulled the towel around his shoulders tighter and waited. Spike took Xander's hair and parted it down the center and across the back. He told Xander to hold the two top sections out of the way for a moment. He ran the comb through Xander's hair until he had most of the tangles out of it then had Xander let go of the sections he was holding. He combed the tangles out of that. He unbraided the war locks and combed them into the mass of hair, smoothing it carefully. After that he parted out a thick lock of hair on each side of Xander's face right at the temples. He braided this into war locks, threading in beads at random.

"I like the look. What do you think?"

Xander looked in the hand mirror Spike handed him and nodded his head. "Looks good. And it'll keep my hair from blowing into my face. I need a clip. Or a whatever you call it. One of those ponytail tie thingies."

Spike had no idea what Xander was talking about, but he was sure Timmins would, or could find out. He made a mental note to get some for Xander.

"Ok, pet. I'll tell Timmins."

Xander groaned. "Timmins. He's so gonna ream me a new one."

Spike didn't bother to ask what Xander meant. "Couldn't tell you. And that's between you and him; I'm stayin' out of it. Don't want scorched blood, or toast. Or starched shorts for that matter."

Xander snickered. "Starched shorts? What are you talking about?"

Spike's disgruntled expression made Xander laughed harder. "Timmins. 'E starched me boxers. Stiff. Had to wad 'em up in both hands to wear 'em." The indignation in his voice made Xander laugh even harder.

When he finished laughing, he dried his eyes on a tissue from the box on the counter. "And why didn't you just put them in the basket and make him do them over?"

"Are you completely insane? Don't want to lose him. And he'd go. Nearly went when he realized that you'd gone. I like 'im."

Xander sighed. "Oh, well, in that case, it's probably a good thing that you just wore them. I wouldn't want to have to go find him. Now. Garden."

"Ok, come on, I'll show you where it is."

Spike led Xander into the bedroom where they found Xander's clothing laid out on the bed. Timmins was standing near the door.

"Master Xander, when you get back, I'd like a small word with you. If you don't mind."

Xander gave Timmins a rather hunted look/ but said, "I do mind, but that's Ok. I'll listen to whatever you have to say. Ok?"

Timmins gave a sniff and a rather stiff nod then left with a straight spine and a firm step.

"Shit! I'm so dead. He'll be all kind and sad and guilt trippy and make me feel like shit. You know he will." Xander snorted at Spike's skeptical look. "Yeah, right. You sure he's not Jewish?" Spike shook his head. "Or a Jesuit?" Spike shook his head again. "Or... never mind."

"Why Jewish, pet? I'm sure he's not."

"Well, Willow's mom was the queen of the guilt trip and Willow always said it was a Jewish thing. Or was it a mom thing?"

Spike nodded his understanding. "I think it's more a mom thing than Jewish and Timmins is really a mother hen."

"Sure. And you're so not." Xander scoffed at Spike, a tender expression on his face. Then he stiffened. "Show me my gardens."

So Spike led Xander into his new garden.

It still had the same entry way, his Granny's Garden, and the new gates were made of brick with marble finials and tops. Xander eyed them with delight; the mason had been an expert.

"Very nice. How old is the vamp that did that?"

"How did you know it was a vamp?"

"Tuck pointing like that takes years to master, and no one has used that style of coping in seventy years or more. Had to be a vamp."

"He's about three hundred. Very good, and I'm keepin' him on. Good worker."

Xander walked through the gates and into the Victorian Rose Garden . All the potted roses were there, all in bloom and smelling sweetly. Xander walked between the pots and the raised beds, smelling the roses and exclaiming over the design.

The Rose Garden was the nexus of the complex and each path led to a different garden room, each with its own design. There were the Asian gardens with a huge koi pond and a meandering stream that further divided the area into a Zen garden of raked gravel and sand with huge boulders dotted in it. There was a Japanese-style garden with bamboo, ferns, and winding paths that made it seem larger than it really was. A Tea Garden with a small quaint Tea House hid in the far end, backed by the wall which was painted in a huge Sumi-e style landscape. Xander exclaimed happily at that. The Apothecary Garden was the smallest of them and was the transition between the Asian gardens and the geodesic dome that contained the Orchidarium and the tropical garden. Xander explained to Spike that the dome was called a Climatron and was exactly like the one in St. Louis. He admired the banana tree and its attendant vanilla orchid then went on to laugh at the antics of the koi who had access from the small stream between the tiny pond in the Climatron and the main stream. The wandering main path cut between raised planting beds and huge pots full of nasturtiums and into the Victorian garden with a reflecting pond and on to the Italianate garden. Xander was nearly delirious with happiness.

He turned to Spike and smiled. "Thank you for the gardens. They're lovely and I saw the gardeners hovering. I need to meet them all soon. But not just now. I think I'm tired. I'll explore more, tomorrow maybe?"

Spike nodded suppressing a shiver at Xander's rather chilly attitude. "Sure, pet. You wanna see your workshop?"

Xander's warm smile gave Spike a spark of hope, but when Xander quashed it, he sighed again. Spike turned to lead Xander out of the garden and through a short hall. The hall opened into a large room with every wood working device available and every tool; it looked like Spike had walked into a wood working store and bought one of everything.

Xander blurted this out as a flabbergasted question. "Yeah, I did. Why? Somethin' missin'? If there is all you have to do is ask for it."

"There's no wood. I need wood too, you know."

"Through here." Spike led Xander into a side room filled with racks of every size, each one full of blocks, panels, and billets of every kind of wood in existence.

Xander looked around in wonder. He knew this was Spike's way of trying to show his love. Xander didn't doubt Spike's love for a moment, but he wasn't taking Spike off the hook until after his punishment and maybe not for a while after that. It was just really hard to crush that hopeful look time after time. He knew he was being wishy-washy, but he also knew that, if he didn't get through to Spike, his life would be miserable. He couldn't, wouldn't, put up with being afraid every second that one wrong word would start Spike up again. He didn't mind being Spike's Companion, but he wasn't going to be a slave or a pet, spell or no spell. So he had to stick to his guns, as hard as that was.

He was also worried about his punishment; he was sure Spike had it perfectly planned. He knew exactly how he was going to do it, Xander was sure of that. He was also quite sure he wasn't going to like it one bit. He'd spent some time worrying about it while he was lying in his bed.

Spike realized that Xander was brooding about the same time as Xander did. "What 'cha thinkin', pet?"

Xander sighed. "That all this is really nice, but it still doesn't make me happy. I... I was going to wait on this, but..." Xander waved a hand in a vague all-encompassing gesture. "all this has changed my mind." Xander led an unresisting Spike back into the gardens where he settled in one of the small, intimate seating areas. "Sit."

Spike sat unhappily; he knew what was coming, and he wasn't sure he was ready for it yet. But avoiding it would only make the problem worse. "Ok, pet. Have your say. Then it's my turn."

"Ok. That's fair enough." Xander took a deep breath as he composed his thoughts. "I won't be hit with a belt. I can't. It..." He sighed softly.

Spike sighed too and reached out to take Xander's hand. "I understand. I should have known better without Timmins raking me over hot coals about it. I'm truly sorry. Go on."

"Memories, you know? I can't stand them. And I'm not going to be a pet or a thrall. I... I deserve to be a Companion. Don't I?"

Spike blinked at Xander for a moment. "I thought you were strictly no biting?"

"No, not no biting, more like no dying. And I'm really feeling the lack of your blood. Doesn't seem fair. I get blood, you don't. So... what am I getting myself into?"

Spike took a deep breath and tried to contain himself. It worked, but just barely. "Ok. Being a Companion is the next step in being Claimed. You give me a few drops of your blood every day, I do the same. We have sex. Not much different from what we were doing Before. But it's more commitment on both sides. I... I want this, pet."

"Ok, I see. I think I'd like to wait on this for after we get this punishment over with."

Spike sighed. "Ok, the healer said you'll be completely well in about a week. Or as soon as you put on the weight you lost. Whichever comes first."

Xander nodded his understanding. "I like the shop; it's really nice. Do I have an office?"

"Yes, and we're sharing a secretary; there's no reason for both of us to have our own. I'm delegating like mad or I'd _be_ mad. Sylvia said she could handle both of us. That Ok?"

Xander grimaced slightly. "Depends on the work load. But, as long as she thinks she can handle it, I'm fine."

"Good, good. We go through here up a flight of stairs. They're spiral, I'm afraid. We couldn't fit anything else in that couldn't be seen from the gardens."

Xander looked the cast iron circular staircase over with a builder's eye. "Nice. Great work. Repro or original?"

"Original. Came from a burnt out home in Czeckoslovakia. I actually remember the house. From my Scourge of Europe days."

"Oh, was it a nice house?" Xander started up the stairs, looking back over his shoulder at Spike.

"No, nasty place. Dark and gloomy. Too dark and gloomy even for Brood Boy. And that's sayin' something."

Xander laughed at Spike over his shoulder. "You're right. But I like it. The railing is brass;" Xander picked at the paint. "why is it painted?"

Spike used one fingernail to scratch off a bit more of the paint; it was beautiful golden brass underneath the flat black paint. "No idea. I think it came in that way. I'll have some of the minions polish it off, shall I?"

"Please. And what about the fledges and minions? Seems I haven't seen any around. They're usually hovering, groveling, and generally getting in my way."

"That's 'cause they're not sure where you stand yet. They don't want to curry favor with you if you're on the outs with me. Wouldn't do to be caught in another power struggle. But we'll talk about all that later." Spike followed Xander down the short, beautifully appointed hall and reached over his shoulder to open the door at the end. "Here. This door leads directly into your office." Spike let Xander go first. "And that door leads into your private loo, that one to the shared waiting room where Sylvia will keep all the riff-raff waiting." He led Xander through into the waiting room, waved at Sylvia, and pointed to another door. "That leads into my office, and the last one, right across from Sylvia's desk lets into the other entrance to the offices. It's just down the hall from the entrance to the Manse. Like it?"

Xander just gulped and nodded. "It's huge; it's beautiful. I love Art Deco It's so... so..." Xander waved a hand.

"Twenties? I like it, too. It was like this when I moved in. And, I think it's all original. Don't have any idea where it came from."

Sylvia cleared her throat. "Movie sets. The old master, not Angelus, the one before him, liked the style and bought a lot of this from that props auction that one of the major studios had about fifteen years ago. That, she pointed to a black bust of a hawk, "is The Falcon."

Xander reached out to touch it with a reverent hand. "I thought some Japanese guy bought it. Or something."

"No, the one we have is the one that Bogie himself held. The one that the Japanese man has is the studio publicity one. It's the one that traveled all over with the movie display. It's documented."

Xander jerked his hand back like the statuette was hot. "Oh! Oh, wow. And it's... ours?"

Spike just smiled and nodded. "Wanna move it into your office?"

Xander shook his head. "No, I'll just forget to dust it then it'll be buried under parchments and... stuff. On that note. Is there anything for me to do?"

Sylvia shook her head. "No. No one has asked since Master Spike threatened to bite the next person who sent in anything on your No-no List."

Spike smirked at Xander then nodded to Sylvia. "Is there a list?"

"No, sir. I think everyone has finally gotten the idea that both of you mean business. It doesn't hurt that I fanged up at the last one and asked him if he'd eaten garlic in the last two days."

Spike blinked then snickered. Xander whooped with laughter. The idea of Sylvia threatening to bite someone was funny. She was the quintessential secretary, very prim and proper. Xander wiped his eyes and went back into his office to explore it.

"The other thing I need is a work room. Someplace to store the things I'm translating until I can get around to them. Climate controlled to protect the more fragile ones. And a long table with a light box for detecting forgeries, and... well, I'm not sure."

Spike just shrugged. "Why don't you make it your first project to design your workroom. You know exactly what you want in it. Do a floor plan and such. I'll get a crew on it as soon as you know what you want. Ok?"

"Sure. Thanks. You want me to do anything for a while?" Xander already had his nose buried in his work.

Spike just said, "No, but don't over do. You'll get back home in exactly two hours, and you'll be havin' a snack and a nap. No argument."

"Ok. I won't." Xander looked up from what he was doing. "I promise. I want to get better and get everything over with so we can get back to what passes for normal with us." He smiled a bit then turned back to his work.

Spike went back to their quarters which he'd started thinking of as home. It felt good to actually have a place he wanted to call home. As long as Xander was there. Now all he had to do was get Xander to forgive him which didn't look like happening any time soon. He sighed and rubbed his face. He was going to have to have his talk with Xander soon.

He was still trying to decide when to speak to Xander -- when he was well, or now -- when Timmins came in with tea.

"Here. Stop pacing; you'll wear out the carpet. I want a small word with the Young Master before you talk to him. Take your time with him. I know he's making you sweat, but he's sweating, too. Not good for either one of you. I'll have a word with the healer. I really think he's being over-cautious. Relax."

Spike didn't remember Timmins ever being so firm with him, but he found that he didn't mind. He accepted the tea and told Timmins that if Xander wasn't back home in two hours, he was to go get him. And that he could have his talk as soon as Xander came in. Timmins replied that he'd have his talk as he was helping Xander change for bed. "He will be taking a nap, right?" Spike's grin told it all.

Xander returned to the quarters a few minutes before he was expected and told Spike that he'd finished his list and a blue print for his workroom. He handed the folder to Spike and went into their bedroom.

"Spike, I'm hungry again. Is Timmins in the kitchen?"

Spike laughed softly at the yelp that followed this. Timmins had been somewhere in the suite.

Timmins had stepped out of the closet when Xander called him. He explained that he was doing an inventory of the clothing that Xander had brought back with him, just now having time to unpack the backpack.

"Oh, Ok. You just scared the bejeezus out of me, looming out of the dark like that."

"I meant to loom. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Do you have so little trust? Has your life been so bad here? Did I fail to protect you when I could?"

Xander gave Timmins a horrified look. "Oh, shit. Spike didn't punish you did he? I didn't think..."

Timmins interrupted, "No, you didn't think. And that's exactly the problem. You don't think before you do stupid things. You could have died. Then where would we be? Master Spike would grieve himself sick. I wouldn't be worth anything, either. You don't just go off like that. Shame on you. We could have fixed it, if you'd stayed. I know you were angry and afraid, but Master Spike so rarely loses his temper that it was more than my existence was worth to do anything too soon, and I'll admit that things got very complicated for a while. And then, you were just gone. We hunted and hunted; Miss Tara made herself sick with tracking spells. And Master Spike. I've never seen a master vampire in such a state. Deplorable, simply awful."

Xander listened to this sad litany with a distressed look. "I... I just... please, Timmins." Timmins clicked his tongue and started to say something else, but a soft sob silenced him. "I'm not good a guilt trips. I'm sorry." Xander sniffled pitifully and went into the bathroom.

Timmins followed wondering if he'd been too harsh. He'd only meant to give Xander a talking to, as he understood it was called. He didn't understand how sensitive Xander was to everything just now and how ill he still was.

"Timmins, I really won't put up with being beaten. My dad, he just about broke me, and... well, I deserve better, don't I?"

"You do, sir. I'm sorry, too. I look at everything from a vampire's point of view. My master is the most important thing to me. And then everything else. You're next in line, though. And I hate to see you and Master Spike like this." He sighed and turned to start Xander's bath.

Xander wandered around the bathroom while the tub filled. He started stripping off his clothing and just dropping it on the floor, something he'd never done before. Timmins didn't remark on it; he just started picking it up.

"Leave it; I'll pick it up later. I'm not trying to be vindictive; I just... I've been alone and got into the habit."

Timmins continued to pick up Xander's mess. "You get into that tub before it cools. I've got this."

Xander wiped his face on a washcloth then got into the tub. He was having enough trouble staying mad at Spike without Timmins guilt tripping him, too. He wished Spike would just get it over with so they could make up or stay mad, or whatever they were going to do. He thought, if the punishment was bad enough, that he might stay mad for quite a while.

"Now, wash quickly then I'll get you a nice snack and you can get some rest. Alright?"

"Yeah. I need a nap. I feel all cranky, grumpy, like I did when I was little, and I had to stay in the car while Mom went into Danny's Bar. I couldn't sleep; I was too scared. And why I'm telling you this is totally beyond me."

Timmins gritted his teeth to keep from snarling. "I don't know, either, but I appreciate it. Come now, put on your pajamas and get in bed. I'll bring your snack on a tray."

Xander just obeyed, well aware that it was easier to do what Timmins asked instead of arguing; he invariably wound up doing what Timmins wanted.

Timmins came back quickly with a tray full of food. Xander's snack consisted of two tacos, an apple fritter, a salad, and a large glass of milk. There was also his medicinal tea. He drank that first hoping the food would kill the taste. It did; in fact, the tacos were so good that Xander forgot all about the tea.

Xander licked the last of the sauce off his fingers and eased back in bed. Suddenly he sat back up. "Oh, shit! Master Bruce. I forgot all about seeing him. Damn it! Timmins, I've got to get dressed."

Timmins just shook his head. "Master Spike said you were to rest. I'll go tell Master Bruce that you'll come see him a bit later. I'm sure he won't mind. He was as worried about you as the rest of us were. Rest."

Xander leaned back again. "Ok, I'll admit that I really wasn't looking forward to his tongue lashing. And he's really going to give it to me, too."

Timmins just shook his head as he closed the door, turning off the light as he went. Xander snuggled down and slept. Timmins went in search of Master Bruce.

.

"Timmins. How's Xander?" Master Bruce had talked with Spike and Healer Azor and wanted confirmation from Timmins that Xander was on his way to health.

"He'll be ready for a mild workout in two or three days. The healer already said." Timmins smiled a bit. "Eaves dropping is a wonderful thing. And Healer Azor also said that he was to be allowed to do anything he thought he was up to so don't push him any at all. He'll find his stride better that way. We have to keep Master Spike from coddling him too much or he'll never get better. You'll have to feel your way." Timmins thought for a moment. "And don't rake him over the coals, I already did that. Too much fussing and he'll just get resentful. This way he'll think about what he did, instead of getting angry that we're all getting on him."

Master Bruce nodded. "You're right. I've never met anyone with a better developed sense of guilt. I'll just let it slide?"

"I believe that will be best. I've got to go now. I have to make Xander's supper. I think you should see him tomorrow morning. Do an assessment?"

"You're right. An assessment would be good. I can see how much he's lost and figure out how to bring him back up to full strength."

They sat drinking tea in silence for a bit then Master Bruce sighed. Timmins shook his head. They were both worried about how the punishment was going to affect both Xander and Spike.

Timmins got up, saying, "I really have to go now. I want to make Xander that casserole he likes, and it has to bake for 45 minutes." He walked out leaving Master Bruce to finish his tea alone.

.

Xander woke to the smell of beef stroganoff casserole. "Mmmm, smells good. Where's Spike?"

Timmins dumped the tray on Xander's lap and snorted. "He's in his office. He's got a ton of paperwork that he has avoided taking care of, and now his chickens have come to roost so to speak."

"How bad is it?" Xander scooped up a forkful of the stroganoff and moaned when the taste hit his tongue.

"Not that bad, it's the sorting that he hates. I think he's a bit afraid to put something in the wrong pile. Like he can't move things once he's put them somewhere."

Xander mumbled around a mouthful. "He's always been that way. Kinda hidebound, you know?"

"Exactly." Timmins waited silently as Xander finished eating then took the tray. "I'll bring you your tea when it's time. Would you like to watch something on TV, or go back to sleep?"

Xander plucked at the duvet for a moment. "There's a book in my office that I'd really like to read. I'll go get it. "Timmins glared at him. "Or not. It's Murphy's Compendium of Demon Tribes and Their Languages. And there's also... um... oh! The little green-covered book with a Sanskrit title. Ask Sylvia for that one. Please?" Timmins couldn't turn down Xander's puppy dog eyes any more than Spike could. He agreed to fetch the books if Xander promised to stay in bed, or at least just go from the bed to the couch. Xander promised, feeling too full to fuss any.

Timmins brought the books back for Xander, fully expecting him to be asleep, but Xander was on the couch propped up on pillows waiting for him. Timmins brought the books to Xander and made sure that the afghan over his legs was adjusted to cover him properly, but not trip him if he needed to get up.

"Thanks. I'm good for now." Xander glanced up from the book he'd already buried his nose in. "Bell?" Timmins gave him a blank look. "I ought to have a bell or something, in case I need you."

Timmins nodded. "Ah, yes, I'll see to that at once. But I am a vampire; I'll hear you if you so much as breathe heavily."

"Oh, Ok. Um... you're not sitting in the hall or something, are you?"

"Of course not. I'm sitting in the room across the hall." Timmins left before Xander registered that.

Spike came back to the rooms near Xander's bed time which was about dawn. Spike was carefully shifting Xander's 'day' to his which meant that Xander slept most of the day and was up all night.

"Hello, pet. Whatcha reading?" Xander showed Spike the book making him raise an eyebrow. "Ok, can't read it." Spike settled on the end of the couch at Xander's feet.

"Spike? You still need to decide which accent you're going to use. It's confusing. Half the time I keep expecting to see Giles, then I look up and it's you."

Spike knew there was more to this complaint than his accent shifting around so he let it alone. "Ok. I need you in your office for about an hour tomorrow. You up to it?"

"Sure, what do you need?"

"I've got a few things that I have no idea what they are. I need you to see if you can translate them. Then Master Bruce wants to assess you to see what you've forgotten and how weak you are."

"Ok. Master Bruce first, then office. Ok?"

"Fine. Are you tired yet?"

Xander sighed. "Yeah, a bit. But I'd like to stay up a bit longer. If I sleep too much I'll just be awake forever tomorrow night. Or day. Or whatever."

"Just call it day and night. Day is when we're awake and night is when we're not. I'm not staying up half the daylight hours, trying to please the Scooby Gang anymore. And my court, my rules. Come to bed soon, will you? I'm worn out with paperwork."

"Night. I'll be in in about half an hour. I'll wait until Timmins brings my tea. The smell will linger in the bedroom for a while, and it would gag a maggot off a gut wagon."

Spike made a disgusted face at that imagery. "Nice." He wandered into the bedroom, dumped his clothing in the hamper, and went to bed in his shorts.

Xander kept his word and came in about half an hour later, brushed his teeth, used mouthwash, and crawled into the bed. The mouthwash didn't help the smell much, but Spike didn't say anything.

.

Xander woke confused and muzzy. "Wa', mmm, oh. Timmins?"

"Yes. Here's your tea. Drink it quickly so it doesn't taste so bad. Chocolate muffins after."

Xander gulped the tea, looked for Spike, and drooped a bit when he wasn't there. "Spike?"

"In his office. Eat your breakfast then go see Master Bruce. Don't worry; he's not going to lecture you. I've already done that. Now eat your breakfast and get going." Timmins left Xander to eat his breakfast of muffins, eggs, bacon, and coffee.

He dressed in a comfortable Tai Chi uniform and headed out to see Master Bruce.

.

Master Bruce looked up when Xander knocked on the door frame. "Come in. Sit here." He pushed a zafu over to Xander.

Xander knelt and settled on it easily. "What's first?"

Master Bruce smiled. "That. How do you feel?"

"Stupid, tired, sad, a bit feverish and stupid."

"I see. The fever is just your body fighting off the last lingering effects of the curse. So is the tiredness. The stupid and sad, you'll have to explain for yourself. The rest you'll get over in a few days. Now, I want you to do your first kata for me."

Xander stood up, took off the soft slippers he was wearing and stepped to the center of the mat. He started the kata a bit shakily, but soon got his stride. He finished it easily and started the next without being told. He got about three-quarters of the way through before he had to quit.

"That's about all I can do for now. But I'm getting stronger every hour. I think it's because I couldn't eat. I'm hungry almost all the time now, though. But that tea. Yuck! It spoils my appetite."

"You need it. But I'm very pleased with you. You're not as weak as I'd thought you'd be, especially doing without Master Spike's blood like you have been. You go now. Master Spike told me not to keep you too long; he needs you in the office."

Xander knelt in front of Master Bruce. He kow-towed gracefully. "I'm so sorry I worried you, Master. I won't do it again." He straightened up a rueful grimace on his face. "Didn't work anyway. I had to come back when he found me. All I've got left is a bit of dignity, and I'm going to lose that soon."

"No, he'll never humiliate you. Don't worry about that. He actually does love you, even if he doesn't want to admit it yet. Now you better go, or he'll give you a lecture."

"Gone." Xander rose, put his shoes back on and headed for the office.

.

When Xander entered Spike's office, he just snarled and handed him a handful of papers. "Which of these can you read?"

Xander flipped through them, "This one, and... this one. Um... most of them. I'll hand you back the ones I can't when I'm done, Ok?"

"Sure. And there's a guy I want you to meet. Maybe next week. He's doing some research into your reading problem." Xander caught his breath. "And I'm not taking any argument. None."

Xander deflated. When Spike spoke in that tone of voice he could argue until he went mute; it wouldn't do any good. "Ok, Ok. But, you know? It's a bit embarrassing that I can read all sorts of really difficult stuff, and I have real trouble with plain English. Sucks that I'm so stupid."

"Shut it!" Spike stood up and slammed the book he'd been holding down on the desk, making Sylvia jump then run in. "You're not stupid. If it's what we think it is, Albert Einstein and Leonardo da Vinci had it. And lots of famous people have it. So stop that. No one who is stupid could read and write as many languages as you can, or learn new ones so quickly. Now take those papers an' get busy. Scat."

Xander blinked once then just left. He wondered, not for the first time, what was wrong with him and how to fix it. He decided to give this one a pass; it wasn't worth the argument.

Sylvia followed Xander into the office and let him get settled. "I'm glad you're back. Do you need anything?"

Xander had already starte shuffling through his desk. "I... let me look here a sec." Xander rummaged some more. "Ok, I need a steno pad and a pencil. And... coffee. You know what I need."

Sylvia did, but it was so nice just to hear his voice. "Yes, I do. I'll be back in a few with all the stuff you need. Just start sorting that mess."

"Mmm, 'k. Got it. Oh, and file folders."

"Right on it."

Sylvia retreated to the outer office and on into the supplies closet. She found the things that Xander had requested including coffee, ready to be freshly made from the gleaming brass espresso maker. She smiled, the damn thing had been hard to find and exorbitantly expensive, but it was just like the one Spike had gotten Xander in Sunnydale, the one that Master Timmins kept in the house kitchen.

She re-entered the office to see Xander, nose firmly in some papers, leaning back in his chair. She was so happy to see Xander in such a familiar pose that she nearly wept. "Boss, here's your stuff and the coffee. You wouldn't believe how much trouble Master Spike and I had finding the machine. Enjoy." She put the steno book on the desk with a mechanical pencil on top of it. "I'll bring you in several more books as soon as we get in the kind you like, and that pencil is one of the side-click ones that you asked for. Don't work too hard."

Xander just grunted, grabbed the pad and pencil then stuck his nose back in the paper. Sylvia sighed; it looked like Sanskrit, but she was never sure. It might be some sort of Arabic instead.

Xander drank coffee, worked on translating the various petitions and requests, and grumbled. One of the petitions was written by someone who it looked like had copied the script from some book of letters, only he couldn't read the language. He finally tossed the pencil down on his desk and announced, "I give up on this one. I can't make heads or tails of it. Half the symbols are just plain wrong, and the rest don't make sense. Spike!"

Spike glanced in the door. "What, pet? Something wrong?"

"Yes, whoever wrote this couldn't spell, sort of. It's all wrong. I really can't read it. It's like this guy copied the letter out of a book. Like um... you copying a letter in Chinese. You know, like out of one of those books of letters you saw years ago?"

"Oh, yeah, Miss Amelia's Proper Correspondence for Young Ladies of Good Family. Never write a letter when you can copy off one. Give it here. I'll have Sylvia send it back and tell them to send it again in a language we can read. You doing Ok?"

"Yeah, I'm getting tired so that's the last one for today. I'm going home and get lunch then I'm taking a bath and a nap. I want to start working out again tomorrow, but don't fuss. Master Bruce said he wasn't going to let me work too hard just yet, but I need it. I'll feel better if I can get back on my old routine."

Spike gave Xander a searching look then relented. "Ok, good enough. I'll be back at about supper time."

"Good, we can eat together. What do you want?"

"Don't care. Whatever Timmins is fixin' you. Now git."

Xander laughed softly. "I'm gone. But... Spike I want to have that talk tonight. I'm tired of trying to stay mad at you, and I'm tired of the suspense. Don't argue, please."

"Ok, pet, I won't. We'll get it over with and go on, Ok?"

"Yeah, Ok." Xander sighed. Spike watched him for a moment then sighed, too. "Seems we're both doing a lot of sighing lately."

Spike nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you at supper. Go."

Xander got up from behind his desk and trudged to the door to his gardens. "I'm going to go through my gardens; maybe they'll make me feel better. I just feel...blank. Not really sick, just... uneasy. I don't know." Xander trailed off, looked at Spike, then turned and went down the beautiful spiral staircase, caressing the now gleaming hand rail absently.

Spike wondered how a heart that didn't beat could hurt so much.

Xander spent nearly an hour in the gardens, walking from room to room and sitting on one bench or another to examine the flower beds and pots of different plants. He really did like the gardens, but he felt guilty about enjoying them until he and Spike were back on firm footing. He finally returned to his room, kicked his shoes into the closet, and flopped down on the couch.

Timmins just shook his head when he saw Xander; the poor thing looked so unhappy. He put Xander's lunch on a tray and took it to him. Xander just looked at it for a moment.

"Am I on house arrest or something?"

Timmins thought for a second. "Not that I'm aware. Why?"

"I'd really rather eat at the kitchen table, if you don't mind."

Timmins just picked up the tray and led the way into the new kitchen. Xander looked around and smiled.

"Man, this is really nice. I like it. Italian?"

"Yes, very nice. All the newest appliances and look there." Timmins pointed into a nook near the door to the dining room. Xander's espresso maker was there along with all the cups, the knocker box, the grinder, and every bottle of syrup that Xander liked. "Master Spike had that made especially. Do you like it?"

Xander nodded, his mouth full of Muffuletta, a sandwich popular in New Orleans that Xander had fallen in love with. He swallowed thickly then said, "I love it; it's really nice. And what the hell is he up to anyway. He's all lovey-dovey with me even when I freeze him out. And I'm not giving up on this. It's just really hard to stay mad at him when he looks at me like that."

Timmins wisely didn't ask like what; he was well aware that Master Spike was giving Xander what would have been called, 'goo-goo eyes' in an earlier time. He thought it was amusing; he also thought it would be more than his existence was worth to show it.

"Miss Tara is asking after you. Would you like to see her tomorrow?"

Xander nodded eagerly. "That would be really nice. I'll look her up after I exercise and shower. Ok?"

"I'll send for her." Timmins gave Xander a quelling look and he subsided, taking another bite out of his sandwich. "You'll be done at about 9:30, or I miss my guess. She's on vampire time, too, so it's Ok. I'll have her come at 10:00; that way, if you visit goes too long, you can have lunch together. Bud wants to see you, too, but he'll be at your exercises; Master Bruce is lining up opponents for you."

"Good, I want to see him too. That's great. And Giles? I want to see him, too."

"Soon. He's involved in some research with... well, we picked up a teacher of all things while we were looking for you. Master Spike doesn't want much said until we're sure of a few things. He, Mister Giles that is, is researching with Thomas Dalton to find out... things. I'm sure I don't really understand it at all. Something about a learning disability."

Xander sighed. "I'm stupid, I know that. Slow, not exactly retarded, but not real smart, either. They tested me in grade school."

Timmins made a disgusted sound. "Well, if you believed them, I'm sure I know where most of your problems come from. Ignore them; Hellmouth educational systems are usually in chaos anyway."

"Oh, Ok. I guess." Xander just gave it up. "I'm going to eat and forget about all that. I don't want to hear about it until Giles has something concrete. Can I have another sandwich?"

"Yes, I have it made up already. Let me get it." Timmins went to the refrigerator and brought the sandwich back to Xander. Xander took it and wolfed it down, too. Then he stood up, stretched, and yawned.

"I'm taking a nap, on the couch, with the TV on. Please don't sneak in and turn it off. Ok?"

"Yes, Young Master, I won't. Get plenty of rest. Tomorrow might be harder than you expect."

Xander chuckled a bit. "Hard? Master Bruce is going to rake me over the coals. His idea of an easy routine would wear out almost anyone. When is Spike going to start giving me his blood again?"

"He has been. I mixed some in with the olive salad in the muffuletta. And it's been in your tea every cup."

Xander hummed softly. "Oh. I'm sleeping now." He'd headed into the living room while he and Timmins talked, and now he flopped down on the sofa and curled up. Timmins turned the TV on, found something banal, and covered Xander with a blanket. Xander was asleep before he was done.

.

Spike finished the last of his work for the day and left a bit early, calling to Sylvia that he was leaving. He went down the circular stairs and wandered in the gardens a bit. He found it as relaxing as Xander did.

It didn't take him that long to get back home. Nor did it take him long to wake Xander up. Simply opening the door did that.

"Spike? That you?" Xander sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"No, it's the Easter Bunny! Of course it's me, you..." Spike sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, then apologized. "Sorry, didn't mean to snap at you. Come into the kitchen. We'll have our talk before both of us crack."

"Ok. Just give me a sec; I want coffee. I'll make you one if you want."

Xander's hopeful look made Spike's refusal die on his lips. "Sure thing, pet. Love one."

Xander fiddled with the machine, produced two perfect cappuccinos and settled at the table.

"Ok, just spit it out. I'm not in the mood for gentle. My nerves are wound like a two-dollar watch."

"Alright, pet. There's got to be a punishment, that's for sure. Someone fucked up royally and needs a good beating. Someone didn't listen to someone else and they should have. Someone only wanted one thing and they didn't get it."

Xander looked at Spike with wide eyes. "Oh, Spike, stop. It's Ok."

Spike shook his head. "No! It's not. This isn't the way... I want you to... you deserve better. I'm sorry. Really sorry. The court expects it, and they're going to get it. You deserve it, too. You get... any punishment you want. I swear I won't hold it against you. Not for a second. No matter what you do, I deserve it."

Xander eyed Spike for a moment, sipping his coffee. "Ok, you'll let me do anything I want to you, and you won't get mad at me or hold it against me later?"

That's right, pet. Anything you want, I won't be mad. How could I? This whole mess is my fault, me and my nasty temper. I should have listened to you. I should have known Arnold couldn't be trusted as far as I could throw your truck. Which is in the garage, by the way."

Xander nodded. "Ok, I have some plans to make. Day after tomorrow, Ok?"

"Fine. Kiss an' make up?"

"Sure. After. More coffee."

Spike sighed; it seemed that Xander could hold a grudge when he really wanted to.


	30. Chapter 30

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: 30/?

Word count: 6641

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language,

Pairings: Spike/Xander

Beta: aayesha_r

lj-cut

Spike woke Xander a bit early so he'd have time to wake up before heading for the dojo. Xander shambled around the bed room for a bit until his brain kicked in. He stretched and rubbed his head then went to the closet.

"I'm just going to wear my gi. If anyone doesn't like it, they can talk to you."

Spike just grinned. "Like that. I'm in the mood for a touch of violence."

"Why don't you come and work out with me? You need to work off some of your energy before court. You're always better off if you beat up something, one, whatever." Xander looked at Spike with hopeful eyes.

"Well, sure, why not. An', you'll notice that I'm bein'...being careful of my accent."

"You sure are. Come on. Master Bruce will make us both run laps if we're late."

"And how do you know if you're late?"

"Unless he's changed, I'm supposed to be there at 6 on the dot. By my watch, he knows I don't cheat. So, it's ten 'til."

Spike nodded, "We better go then. We'll be right on time."

.

Master Bruce nodded to Xander and then Spike. Xander bowed back, but Spike hesitated.

"Master Spike, I told you that I would be careful with him until we were sure he was well. Do you not trust me?" Master Bruce was getting ready to be offended, but Spike just held up his hand.

"I was thinking that I could work out a bit. I'm restless."

"Ah! Of course. Come then." Master Bruce bowed, one master to another.

"I will set Xander to his exercises then we'll spar."

Master Bruce told Xander to do his kata until he was sweating lightly then cool down with Tai Chi; last, he was to do a yoga flexibility routine and then meditate. He finished his instructions with, "And don't think I can't keep an eye on you and work out with Master Spike at the same time."

Xander just smirked at him. "Sure. I'm on my best behavior. So, go. Fight Master Spike."

Master Bruce gave him a beady-eyed look and went to spar with Spike.

Spike had been warming up while he waited. He knew better than to work out without a warm up. He assumed that Master Bruce was already warmed up. What martial arts master would be waiting on a student, cold?

They moved to the other side of the dojo, leaving Xander plenty of room to work out, and themselves enough room as well.

Master Bruce expected Spike to forego the formalities so he was surprised when he bowed, one master to another, then took up his stance. Bruce bowed back and waited for Spike to make the first move. Which he did by jumping up and aiming a roundhouse kick right at his opponent's head. This didn't work very well as Master Bruce ducked under it then caught Spike on the back swing. Spike used the force of the kick to flip out of the master's reach. After that Xander went back to his workout as they were nothing but blurs. He knew the match was going to go on for quite a while. Spike was very good and Bruce was his equal. Bruce might have the edge in technique, but Spike had the edge in real life experience.

They ended with a draw, which didn't surprise Spike or Xander, but Master Bruce was just a tad bit put out, as Xander said. Master Bruce hadn't expected Spike to be quite as strong as he was.

"Well, that was a bit of a surprise, Master Spike. Come on, then, we need to check on Xander. He's doing quite well, for not having any of your blood for a while." They both walked over to Xander, who was finishing his yoga routine.

Xander settled in for his meditation and felt Master Bruce touch his back; he realized that he was slouching and straightened up. A soft, "Good", was his reward. He felt a bit tired, but not too much so. He knew he was supposed to be meditating, but he eavesdropped instead.

"How much formal training have you had?"

"None. I just pick up stuff quickly, especially when my life depends on it. I watched Rupert train the Slayer, Buffy. Then I tried the moves out on fledges. Wonder what degree I'd have if I had formal training."

Master Bruce thought for a moment. "With your experience and your skill level I'd say you deserve at least a 6th dan belt. Xander has a 4th dan already."

Spike shrugged. "That's good, I guess. I have no idea what that means."

"Ah! Of course not. Well, black belt, or obi, is the highest color you can attain. When I was a student, that was it. Then, new forms were invented, and weapons got better. So we needed higher rankings. The black belt was given two stripes on each end. White, then yellow, orange, and so on. To indicate the dan, or senior level. You are purple and Xander is green. I don't believe in belts myself, there's more to a level than how many forms you know. I'd give you, in my private ranking, a level of pure killer. Xander is just below you in that. It's more about the mental attitude than skill. Xander would kill many 10th level black belts because he has it in him to actually kill someone. They'd lose because they aren't ruthless enough. He's just below you because of his skill levels and no other reason."

Spike blinked for a second. "Oh, well, shit. He's that good?"

"He's that ruthless, when he feels he has to be."

Xander didn't twitch a muscle. He thought about Master Bruce's opinion and decided that he was right. He'd kill in a second if it was necessary, and his definition of necessary was his own.

Spike rubbed his face, glanced at Xander and pulled Master Bruce into the hall. "Boy has ears like a vamp. Where's Yakov?"

"Went to do some visiting. He'll be back soon."

"Oh, Ok." Spike turned back to see Xander laying flat on his back, a peaceful expression on his face. "How long should we leave him?"

"Another few minutes then he needs to go to his office." At Spike's puzzled look, he explained, "I talk to his secretary. She keeps me aware of what he needs to do so that I don't exhaust him on days he needs to work."

Spike nodded, "I'll stir him in five."

"Very good, and before I forget, Mister Giles said that the minion Thomas Dalton would like to speak to Xander this afternoon. If you approve."

Spike shrugged. "Sure, tell him I said it was Ok."

Master Bruce bowed and left.

Spike watched Xander for the next few minutes. He looked much better than when Spike had found him. He was putting on weight at a fantastic rate, and his tan, which had been washed out by the strain of the curse, was showing again.

"Xander?" Spike's soft call didn't even make Xander twitch.

"Yeah. I'm done. Office?"

"Yeah. Come on, I got work to do, too."

Xander sighed. "I'll shower and be right up."

"No, come with me. Last of the pressies."

"Ooo, more pressies." Xander grinned like a little kid. "I like pressies. Is it something really good?"

"I think so. I'll even use it. If it's Ok with you, that is."

"I'm sure it will be." Xander dragged Spike to the stairs. "Show me! Now!"

"Greedy little shit."

"You betcha."

So Spike took Xander through part of the gardens and through a hidden door. Xander sniffed once; the smell of chlorine was heavy in the damp air. Xander took one look and grabbed Spike.

"Oh, man! A pool! My very own pool! Thank you so much." Xander just grinned, stripped off, and went skinny dipping. Much to Spike's disgust. The pool was situated under a huge skylight, and the late afternoon sun made it impossible for him to enter. He contented himself with standing in the hallway and watching.

Xander made several laps then climbed out. There were towels on a small rack at pool side, and he helped himself, drying off quickly. He put his gi back on, wrinkling his nose at the scent.

"I'll be keeping some clothing here from now on. That was great. Spike?"

"Not vamp friendly until dark, pet. But you enjoy it any time you want."

"Sorry. I didn't know. I'll get an order in for the glass as soon as I can."

Spike shook his head. "No, don't. It's your special place. Someplace I can't go. Just for you. See?"

Xander did. "Oh, that's... that's... yeah. Thanks. We better get to the office. I've got a ton of stuff to go through, and then I'm not sure what. But, big lunch, maybe two. And a nap."

"Yeah..."

Xander suddenly got a big eyed look. "Oh, shit! I forgot about Bud, Tara and Giles. They were going to come see me at the dojo. Fuck!"

Spike held up a hand. "Don't fret yourself. I told them all to come to your office to see you. You're not going to bury your nose in a bunch of translations right off the bat. Now, come on. Tara's probably waiting on you. Sylvia will not be pleased if we put her schedule off."

Xander happily followed Spike to the offices.

.

Tara knocked on the door and waited for the deep voice to call, "Come in." She opened the door and blinked. Xander had called Timmins and had him bring some clothing to the office where he'd unashamedly stripped off the gi and put on the charcoal grey linen trousers and light grey cotton button down shirt. His shoes were Gucci, worn without socks. Tara blinked for a second. The clothing clashed a bit with his hair. The war locks on either side of his face made him look fierce. Then he smiled.

"Tara, I'm so glad to see you. How are you? Bud treating you Ok?"

"Bud is... he's very good to me. He's taken me everywhere. All he has to do is wear a pair of sunglasses. Even at night, people around here wear them. Can you imagine? It's really strange. And there's all sorts of things to do at night. Shows and... and... I'm babbling. Sorry."

Xander laughed. "It's nice. Sit down and relax. I don't bite. Except if it's Spike."

Tara laughed softly and settled in the comfortable chair that Xander motioned to. He buzzed Sylvia and asked her for one of Tara's favorite teas. When she brought it in, Tara thanked her and took a sip.

"It's really good. Do your beads need renewing?"

Xander shrugged. "Not really. I think just their natural influence is good enough. Do you need anything?"

Tara shook her head.

They gossiped for a while and laughed over this and that. Tara finished her tea, and in proper social style, excused herself and left, giving Xander a quick hug and peck on the cheek. Xander hugged and pecked her back. Sylvia nodded her approval and announced that Bud would be there in three minutes.

Bud showed up in two, knocked on the door and opened it without invitation. Xander just grinned at him.

"Hi! How's everything?"

"Good, good. You're a shit, you know that, don't you?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah. Sorry. Did Spike have a complete spaz?"

"Howled like a kicked dog. Really unsettling. And sulked, pouted and generally acted like someone who was missing the other half of himself. Shame on you. He insulted you, you should have come to me. We'd have handled it properly."

"Really? What would we have done?"

"Gone out and gotten pissed and come back. Passed out and made him take care of you." Bud grinned at Xander.

"Yeah, evil undead wouldn't do anything like that. He'd just let me wake up with a hangover and laugh." Xander grinned back, knowing that Spike would do no such thing. He offered Bud a coffee, which he accepted.

They exchanged the sort of chat that men do. Xander burped, Bud snickered.

Sylvia stuck her head in the door just in time to hear. "Ugh! You're just disgusting. Bud, out. Mr. Giles is here."

Bud just stood up and waited until Xander walked around his desk. They hugged and bumped fists. Bud nodded to Giles as he left.

"Giles, hello. You look... um..." Xander stumbled to a halt. He'd seen Giles the night Spike had found him, but hadn't paid that much attention to him. Now he wasn't sure what to think of the 'new' Giles.

"Like Ripper. I know. I've been working on loosening up a bit. How do you feel?"

Xander sighed. "I think I'll have little cards made out. I'm fine. I need to gain back a few pounds, but Spike and I... we've reached an understanding. Things are looking up. Tea?"

"That's good. And tea would be great. Thanks."

Sylvia brought in tea for both of them and smiled at Giles. "Your companion has finished his research, //comma should be semi-colon// he says that he'd like to talk to Xander this afternoon."

Giles just nodded his thanks, sipped his tea, and let Xander ramble. Which Xander happily did. He realized that this was the 'olive branch' in their relationship, and he accepted it with both hands.

Giles finally put down his empty cup and said kindly, "Xander, as interesting as all this is, and I do mean that, I need to speak to you about something."

Xander stopped talking and just looked at Giles for a moment. "Ok, what? But if this is about Spike and me, don't bother."

"It's not about you and Spike. You're nineteen and your sex life is your business. If he becomes abusive, I'll try to help. But, frankly, I doubt he'll do that. He was frantic when you disappeared. No, it's about your reading difficulties. I'm sorry I... um... well, I'm not a trained teacher, so I had no idea that you might have a disability. There's a vampire who knows about these things. He'll be coming to meet you this afternoon. Cooperate with him, and we might be able to help you."

"Oh, good. I always knew there was something wrong, but I could never figure out what. Things crawl around, and 'saw' and 'was' don't look different, and a lot of other stuff. But Sunnyhell is well known as the 'I don't care' capital of the educational world. But why can I read some writing easily and others look like... I'm not sure what?"

Giles easily admitted, "I haven't a clue. That's what Tom is doing. He's reading all the newest literature on several specific learning disabilities, and he has an idea. There's some tests he wants. After that, we'll know something."

Xander picked at his lip for a second. "Ok, I'll go along as long as Spike approves." He glanced at his watch and stood up. "I'm sorry, Giles, I've got to run you off. I've got some arrangements to make, and I need to get started on them. Will you be in court tonight?"

"Yes. Um... as I said before, it's not my business, but... be careful what you do. If you humiliate Spike too much, he... he's very proud. Not to mention the damage to his 'face'. Las Vegas, or even all of Old California, could get completely out of hand."

Xander just nodded. "I'm well aware of what could happen. But, Old California? Not sure what you mean. California is a state, right?"

"Yes, California is a state. And the state of California was admitted into the union in 1850, but the divisions of the continent into four Vampiric Dominions was done in 1630. So California is very large and Louisiana includes the states of Arkansas, Oklahoma, Missouri, and some others that I have forgotten. The Eastern Seaboard Domain is all of the original colonial states and part of Canada. I'll see if I can't find you a map."

Xander gave Giles a pole-axed look and sat down a bit abruptly. "Oh... um... I see. Wow. I'll take that into consideration."

With that, Giles excused himself and Xander called Sylvia into the office, requested she see if Timmins could attend him, and set to work.

He had Sylvia do the writing so that he could concentrate on the particulars. He made up a list of things that Spike had to do to gain forgiveness. It wasn't long, nor particularly difficult, just very detailed. When he was done he asked Sylvia to type it up like a contract and give it to Timmins for a look over, then Timmins was to give it to him for correction.

Timmins looked it over in hand written form, and nodded his head. "Very complete, detailed, and, as Miss Tara would say, doable. I don't see that any corrections need to be made. It can stand as is. I'll go prepare your lunch." Timmins stood up, bowed to Sylvia and left. Xander gave his last instructions for the final copy.

That done, he went home for lunch.

.

Xander was lounging in bed, eating a second lunch and watching the TV when someone knocked on the door. He crawled out of bed and shambled to the door. When he opened it he nearly slammed it again. He didn't know the vamp on the other side.

"Thomas Dalton. Master Spike accepted my fealty. I'm here to talk to you for a moment and ask you some questions."

Xander blinked for a second then shut the door in his face, announcing, "Not until I clear it with Timmins."

Thomas waited patiently, well aware that Xander had reason to be cautious. The door opened, and Xander gave him grudging permission to enter.

"Ok, Timmins said. What do you want? I'm going to sit down. You can sit where ever you want. And if this is something to do with Spike's punishment, that's personal. So, what?"

"I'm the one who has experience in learning disabilities. I'd like to interview you as a start to your diagnosis."

"I thought your name was Tom. Sorry. Giles just dropped your name into conversation, and I wasn't paying proper attention. So, what's the what?"

Thomas thought for a moment, evidently trying to see how to explain everything to Xander. Xander just waited, something he'd learned from Spike and Master Bruce.

"Well, there are several learning disabilities that you might have. I'm leaning towards dyslexia and there are several tests that I want you to take before we do anything else. I'm not a diagnostician so I'd rather have someone else do that. I am, however, quite qualified to help you conquer these problems. You're not stupid by any means, nor even illiterate. And I'm sure your memory is excellent."

Xander sighed, "Ok, one, I don't test well. Two, where would we have to go, and three, can Spike and Bud come, too?"

Thomas smiled gently. "I understand exactly. So, one, the test is not pass/fail, it's diagnostic, to see what you can do how you do it. Two, we have to go to the Las Vegas Learning Disabilities Clinic,//comma should be semi-colon// it's out in the 'burbs somewhere. And Master Spike and Bud have to come, or Master Spike will have, what my mother used to call, a tizzy."

Xander considered this for a moment. "Ok, make an appointment for next week. I can't do it any earlier. Thanks." Xander stood and held out a hand for Thomas to shake. "Mr. Dalton?" Thomas raised an eye brow. "I really want to learn to read better. I'll work hard, but I won't tolerate being treated like a child, or an idiot. Ok?"

"I would never presume to do so. I'll leave you now." He bowed and turned away, smiling to himself. This was going to be easy.

Xander eyed his back until he closed the door on it. This was not going to be easy.

.

Spike bit at his lip. He was ready for court, he hoped. Xander had sent a note asking him to come to court 'dressed appropriately'. Whatever that meant. He poked through his closet, trying to decided //decide// what to wear.

Something, anything. Then he decided. Something symbolic, Xander was big on symbols. He found what he was looking for and put the clothing on. He wondered what Xander was going to wear.

The other part of the note was that Xander wanted an apology, and an explanation made to the court. Spike could understand that, and he could do it. He didn't even see any problem with it. The court would do as he said, or else. And he could be quite inventive with his 'or else's'.

Timmins stuck his head in the door and told Spike that Xander had left for court. Spike grinned at the expression on Timmins' face, or rather the total lack of expression.

"Don't approve?"

"It's not my place to say. I'll bring you something to change into."

Spike didn't argue. Timmins was a force unto himself.

.

Xander paced for a moment. He needed to look just right: powerful, in control, in command. But not too dressed up. Not a suit. He eyed the suit that Timmins had put out. "Too Mafia. What the hell is he thinking?" Xander never realized that Timmins could hear him clear down the hall, and was laughing up his sleeve.

Finally Xander found what he wanted. He selected a pair of black military BDU's and a tactical shirt; over that, he pulled on a linen button down shirt which he left open to the bottom of his breast bone. He took some time to decide between a pair of tactical boots and an old pair of combat boots. He decided on the newer tac boots.

Xander looked at himself in the mirror, trying to see himself as someone else would. He saw a young man on the edge of true maturity, powerful but inexperienced, willing to learn and open hearted. He saw someone physically strong, capable, and still growing. He liked what he saw.

Timmins peeked out of the kitchen to see Xander stride off down the hall. He picked up the pile of folded clothing and followed a minute later.

.

Spike waited in the outer entrance hall, penitent and jittery. He knew that Xander was inside, on the dais, waiting on him. He wished for a smoke, he wished for a drink, but most especially, he wished he'd kept his temper.

Finally getting control of his nerves, Spike motioned to the minion to open the door, took a deep breath, and walked through the door. He walked down the center of the aisle that had been left from the door to the dais. Xander watched him, expressionless and still.

Spike didn't saunter, didn't swagger, or strut; he just walked. He kept his eyes on Xander who looked back gravely. Spike knew he had some definite groveling to do.

Xander waited until he got to the base of the dais then announced. "I already explained what is going on. No one," he glared around the court,"I repeat, no one will snicker, laugh or even breathe heavily. If they do, they'll answer to me." Spike couldn't help a gentle glow of pride; Xander's glare rivaled his own.

Spike cleared his throat. "I have come, supplicant, to you. I have wronged you. I wish to make amends. Tell me how."

Xander just handed Spike the paper. "Read. If you agree give it back to me."

Spike raised an eye brow, but obediently read the paper. He blinked, reread it then just handed it back.

One, prepare yourself for a belting.

Spike took off the shirt he was wearing. He'd left off shoes or boots as was tradition. He walked the few steps left to the dais, handed the shirt to Timmins, and looked around; against one wall was a whipping post.

Spike took off his belt, knelt on one knee and offered it to Xander. Xander took it and nodded once. Spike stood and went to the post. There was a ring set in it, just high enough up that Spike had to reach to get ahold of it.

Xander walked up behind Spike. He looked at the court and announced, "This is your Master. He has more honor than you can understand. This is what you're dealing with. He will not expect of you what he does not give himself. Remember."

Spike waited for the beating of a lifetime, he got the unexpected. Xander raised his arm and brought the belt down across Spike's back. One time.

The sharp crack was unexpectedly loud in the silent room. Spike didn't even flinch, he'd bear his punishment stoically, hoping Xander would find it in his heart to forgive. Xander rolled the belt around his fist and said softly, "Turn around."

Spike obediently turned, a puzzled expression on his face. "That's... all? That's it? What?"

Xander just held out his hands. "Kiss?"

Spike started to kneel to kiss the belt that dangled from Xander's hand. Xander tossed it away, peeling it off his hand with a flick of his wrist. "Not that. Here." He pointed to his mouth.

Spike staggered a bit, Xander wanted a kiss? He could do that.

Xander enveloped Spike in his arms, realizing for the first time that he was actually more than four inches taller than the vampire. He nuzzled his nose in the sandalwood scented side of Spike's neck, took a deep breath then raised his mouth to Spike's. The kiss was long, sultry, wet, and passionate. Xander finally had to pull away to breathe.

They separated a bit and Xander took a really good look at Spike's clothing. "Um... no, just no, a world of not a chance. What the hell are you wearing?"

"Traditional supplicant's ... rags. Don't like it?" Spike peeked at Xander through his eye lashes.

"No! Look like a beggar. Where's Timmins." Timmins stepped out of the shadows at the back of the dais. He just handed the clothing to Xander and smirked at Spike.

Xander waved Timmins away and helped Spike get dressed, noticing that the bruise from the single lash of the belt was already healing.

Spike eased back into Xander's arms, ignoring the babble from the court. "One lash was nothing. 'M I forgiven?"

"If you can figure out what the lash was for. I'll think about it." Xander's coy expression didn't fool Spike for a second.

"The lash was for losing my temper. I'm really sorry. I should have listened."

Xander leaned down to kiss Spike again, and the court couldn't stand it any more; they broke out in cheers and laughter. This court was going to be much more fun than the old one. And California finally had a Master who was going to do the right thing, most of the time.

Spike snarled at them half-heartedly, making the braver ones laugh more. Xander just snorted.

.

Spike followed Xander back home and had to laugh at the second item on the list of his forfeits.

Two, I get to top for one month.

"You have any idea what you're doing?"

Xander grinned and admitted, "No, but I'm sure if I'm doing it wrong, you'll tell me. Loudly, and often."

Spiked smirked, "Vampire, love. You have to try really hard to hurt me. And you don't want to at all. It'll be fine. Come on."

Xander shrugged. "That's just it. I don't want to hurt you. And my manly manness insists that you enjoy it. You made sure I enjoyed it. I want you to, too."

Spike had to hang on to Xander's shoulders to keep from falling down, he laughed so hard. Xander gave him a look of mingled disgust and amusement.

When he finally stopped laughing, Spike announced, "Manly manness? Oh, hell, pet." He hugged Xander then took him by the hand. "Come on, then."

Xander allowed Spike to lead him into 'their' bedroom, in other words, Spike's room, which Xander had refused until now to occupy with him. He had looked around at the huge living area as they went through, and approved of it. He'd also caught a glimpse of a library/sitting area first door on the right in the hall he had been half dragged down.

"Easy there, I'm not going to disappear in a puff of smoke."

"Better not. You do, and... well, I'm not sure what I'd do."

Xander turned, caught Spike by the waist and lifted. Spike was stronger than anyone would ever think, but he weighed in at about 130, easy for Xander's martial arts hardened muscles. He was still a little short on endurance, but his strength had returned with his morning workout. He tossed Spike onto the bed, and pounced.

Spike yelped when he felt his feet leave the floor, and again when he hit the bed and bounced. Xander grabbed Spike by one arm and tugged. "Off. Nice clothes, but off. All of them. Now."

Spike obliged, easily shedding the linen trousers, shirt, and soft leather loafers that Timmins had handed him not more than ten minutes ago.

"There, pet, now what?"

"Lube, where's the lube? I know you have some. You never touch me without a ton of the stuff."

"Have me dry, if you like. Don't mind." Spike watched Xander with dilated eyes.

"No, I don't think so. Ouchy. For both of us."

Spike just pointed to the bedside table. "Drawer."

Xander retrieved the tube and sat on the bed. "Ok, I know how to go about it, but if I hurt you, I want to know at once. Got me?" Xander pinned Spike with a firm eye.

"Ok, pet, this _is_ all yours, you know. All your way, what ever way you want."

Xander crawled across the bed to lean over Spike. He pointed one finger right at his nose. "And don't you forget it." Spike licked the end of Xander's finger. "Oh, you're gonna get it now." Xander rubbed the wet end of his finger across the tip of Spike's nose, making him giggle.

"Aren't you a bit over dressed, pet?"

Xander stripped off, tossing his clothing everywhere. He didn't even bother to get off the bed; he just knelt up and then sat down. Spike moaned softly; Xander was still a bit ribby, but he looked great.

Spike jumped a bit as Xander lay back down on top of him. "Love you, Spike. Pay attention."

Spike just replied, "Love you back, Xander."

Spike reached to take his knees in his hands. He pulled them up to his chest and just watched Xander. Xander settled between Spike's bent legs and smiled at him over his chest. "Yeah, just like that, and I'm gonna..." Xander slid one finger into Spike making him groan. "Good?"

"Yeah. Real good. Don't need to go so easy though."

Xander leaned down, pinning Spike. "Do, too. Shush."

Spike shushed because Xander settled between his thighs and started kissing him. Slow, sensuous kisses. Kisses that took his breath away, even if he didn't have any. Kisses that made his head spin and his belly clench.

"Mmmm, more."

Xander kept kissing and slipped a second finger into Spike. Spike barely noticed; he was too occupied with sucking on Xander's tongue.

When Xander eased a third finger into Spike, he finally found that little spot he had been carefully searching for. Spike surged upright with a yell that made Xander snicker. He pushed Spike back down and worked that spot, rubbing his middle finger over and over it. "No coming until I say."

"No... bloody hell, pet. You're killin' me."

Xander just snorted then started nibbling Spike's neck, still pinning him down with the full weight of his body, not that it would do much good as Spike's sit-up had proven. But neither Spike nor Xander really cared.

Spike panted and squirmed. "Now. Now. Now." Xander obediently smeared lube over his raging erection and pushed Spike's knees closer to his chest.

Xander carefully lined up with Spike and pushed in. He froze. "Oh, my God. You're so tight. So... so cool."

Spike bent double and kissed Xander. "More. Move."

Xander moved, thrusting into Spike until he found the sweet spot again. Then he became ruthless, thrusting hard and hitting that spot every time. Spike moaned and lost his grip on his knees. He wrapped his legs around Xander's waist and groaned, "More, harder, faster. Move."

Xander obliged, muttering, "Pushy, pushy. You're supposed to be the bottom."

" 'M on the bottom." Spike licked Xander's neck, sniffing deeply of his cinnamon and salt, earthy smell.

He lifted his hips to give Xander a better angle. "Close, love, so close."

Xander just panted and increased the speed and force of his motions. They exploded at the same time, shouting. Xander collapsed on top of Spike with a whimper.

"Spike. I. Brain dead. Fuck."

Spike just rolled, easing Xander onto the bed. "Yeah."

"Spike?" Xander rolled his head to gaze at Spike.

"Yeah."

"That was incredible. How soon can we do that again?"

Spike laughed, rubbing his cheek against Xander's sweat-soaked shoulder. "As soon as you can get it up. I'm ready now."

"Evil, undead git."

.

Three, no more hiding your blood in something, I get it straight and from the source.

Xander woke, stretched and reached for Spike. Who wasn't there. "Hmm? Spike? Where are you?"

Xander rolled to his feet and started to go look for Spike, but he stuck his head in the door and called, "Come into the kitchen, pet."

Xander smacked his lips, realized that he had morning mouth from hell, and went to brush his teeth first, calling out, "Be there in a sec."

Spike grinned at Timmins who just raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He'll do it. He's my boy."

Xander walked in just then, smelling of mint and flowers. "Spike, I don't really ask for much, but that frou-frou flowery soap has to go." Timmins just nodded and made a mental note to get Xander's personal things moved at once. "And what is this?"

Spike held up a shot glass and a straight razor. "Not hiding the blood anymore. This" Spike shook the shot glass at Xander. "is about what you should have every day." He put the glass on the table and used the razor to make a shallow cut on his wrist. He held the cut over the shot glass and let his blood run into it until it was filled up to the 'shot' line engraved on it.

Xander didn't ask any questions; he just reached over and picked up the glass. He bolted the blood shot like a shot of whiskey. He shuddered once then put the glass back down on the table. "Thank you. Breakfast?"

Spike looked blank for a moment then he gave Xander a look of combined awe and love. "That's it?"

Xander shrugged. "It makes me strong, so I can keep up with you, protect you, be with you. Breakfast? Any time soon?"

"Git." Spike held out a hand to Timmins who sourly handed over a dollar.

.

Four, give me something expensive and unexpected. You'll have to think about this one.

Spike groaned; he'd been thinking and thinking what he could get Xander that was unusual, expensive and something Xander would like. He'd put Sylvia to the task and gone to sit in his office in the dark.

"Got it, sir. Perfect. Something he'll never think of. And part of it he can eat and the rest is a great souvenir. He'll love it."

Spike blinked at the picture on his computer monitor. Sylvia had tapped in the URL while he was trying to catch up to her.

"That's perfect. Do you think the man will come here?"

"Probably, if you pay him enough. It takes two days to get it, no matter what. I'll get in touch with him."

Spike prepared to get Xander this special treat, no matter what.

.

Xander watched in amazement as a carefully dressed Spike brought out a wheeled cart covered with mysterious containers.

First, Spike opened a flocked box and took out a Baccarat Harcourt crystal champagne coupe. He carefully put the flat bowled glass on a gold charger.

Then he picked up a strange looking flat package and a gilding brush. He flicked the page back and lifted the gold leaf out carefully; he eased the square of gold into the coupe then added another, lining the glass with 23k gold.

Xander watched this with puzzlement. "Can I actually eat that?"

Spike nodded. "Food safe. Actually doesn't taste like much. Now the ice cream. Vanilla, made with Tahitian and Madagascar vanilla, organic even."

Spike opened a thermal container and carefully took out the five all ready made balls of ice cream with a sliver spoon. He arranged them in the coupe, careful not to disarrange the gold.

After satisfying himself with the arrangement of the ice cream, Spike picked up a crystal pitcher full of Amedei Porcelana chocolate syrup and drizzled it all over the ice cream. Xander's mouth started to water. Then Spike added chunks of Chuao chocolate from a sliver box. Xander reached for his treat.

Spike patted his hand away. "Not done yet." He retrieved the packet of gold leaf from its place and added a piece to the top of the sundae. Then into it, he carefully stuck the stem of the gold, pulled sugar orchid, made especially for the occasion by Ron Ben-Israel.

Another box, made of crystal, yielded marzipan cherries, gold dragets, and a truffle, which Spike placed on the charger.

The last touch made Xander blink. Spike placed a small mother of pearl dish on top of the sundae; it had been resting in a small crystal bowl of ice. The pink caviar smelled like passion fruit.

Spike handed Xander a gold spoon and set the sundae in front of him.

"There you go, pet. A Grand Opulence Sundae, compliments of Serendipity, New York City. No one except the owner himself has ever made one before. It took a lot of persuading, let me tell you. And it cost a grand. Enjoy."

Xander blinked once, smiled in total bliss and dipped his spoon reverently into the confection. He placed the spoonful of ice cream, chocolate, and gold in his mouth and rolled it around on his tongue. The burst of vanilla, chocolate and cold made him moan. "Oh, man. That's almost... orgasmic." Spike snorted trying not to laugh. "Ok, laugh, but it is. Taste?" Xander offered Spike a spoonful.

Spike opened his mouth and allowed Xander to feed him a bite. "Yeah, love, it's good. But it's all for you."

Xander smiled. "Ok, I know you don't care for ice cream that much. But.... mmmm." Xander ate another spoonful. "It's really, really good."

"Glad you like it. Done deal?"

Xander nodded. "Done deal." He went back to his sundae, eating with relish.

~O~

The sundae really exists. You can read all about it here.

.com/2007/05/09/grand-opulance-sundae-at-serendipity-in-nyc/

It's a bit short, but Merry Christmas. (Or whatever holiday you celebrate)

/lj-cut


	31. Chapter 31

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: 31/?

Word count: 9039

Rating:Mature

Disclaimer:Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Warnings:Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language,

Parings: Spike/Xander

Beta: aayesha_r (due to last minute rewriting, all remaining mistakes are mine.)

Spike liked his office; it was large, airy and light, without being too bright. But right now it seemed very small. He was pacing restlessly because they were taking Xander to the Learning Disabilities Center to be tested.

"Spike, you're wearing out the carpet." Giles couldn't contain a slight smirk. Spike was 'going mental' and he found it amusing.

"Shut up. When's Xander getting here? He said ten minutes. It's..."

"Been six. He'll be here. Where would he go?"

"He hates tests! No matter what he said, I'm afraid he'll do a runner. I don't want to have to chase him down."

A voice from the door made them both jump. "And why not? It sounds like fun. I'm here. Let's get going."

Xander smiled at Spike, who blinked back at him for a moment. Xander was dressed in neat jeans that fit just right. He had his work boots on and a flannel shirt, but the jacket he was wearing was a Harley-Davidson leather racing jacket. It showed off his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He looked good, sleek and dangerous. Spike grinned back, licking his lips.

"None of that. That's for later. We better get going." Xander glanced at his watch. "We've got an hour to get there. You know where it is?"

Giles shook his head. "No, he doesn't, but I do. We'll be taking the limo as Tom is coming with us."

Xander pouted a bit. "I was hoping we could take the bikes. I know how to ride, and I really wanted to try out one of the Harleys." Xander just shrugged when Spike shook his head. "Oh, snap. Maybe some other time?"

"Sure thing, pet. When we get back, if it's early enough. That good?"

"Yeah. And I want that map. You promised me."

Spike nodded. "I'll have to send for it. There's four originals, as well as a more modern one, one for each High Master. My set's in safe keeping, somewhere. I've never actually seen it. Haven't had time."

Xander halted in his tracks. The limo was pulled up in front of the mansion, looming in the dimmer lights of the front parking area. And a stretch Hummer really looms. Xander laughed softly.

"Is that for me?"

Spike smirked. "Yeah, pet. I've got a Rolls. We better get a move on. We don't want to be late and miss our appointment."

Xander drooped a bit. "Yeah, actually, we do. I hate tests; I never do well. And, believe me, I've had plenty of experience with failing. I don't need more."

A voice from the side said gently, "These tests aren't pass/fail. They're diagnostic. Just relax, answer the questions the best you can, and we'll see."

Xander smiled at Tom. "Mr. Dalton, you're coming too?"

Tom bowed a bit. "Yes, I'll want to consult with the diagnostic team. And perhaps get some training materials."

They all climbed into the Hummer, and the driver eased away from the door for the drive to the center.

The driver knew exactly where the center was so they didn't have to rely on Giles to find it. They were twenty-five minutes early for their appointment which was good as they needed to fill out reams of paperwork first. Xander got giggly when the receptionist asked where the 'young man' was. But Spike was impressed as she looked upset when Xander admitted that he was the test subject. He was even more impressed when he heard her mutter softly, "Damn, another one nearly lost." She typed into her computer for a moment then asked for the pile of paperwork.

Xander handed over the papers with a grimace. He really didn't want to have to spend time trying to fill out paperwork that he couldn't really read. He knew Spike would help him with it, but that was another sore point. Having to have his boyfriend help him with it was also embarrassing. He was overjoyed when the receptionist shuffled through the pile, removing whole sections; she ended up handing him back less than half of it.

"As you're not a minor, most of this is irrelevant. We do need an up-to-date list of vaccinations and your health records."

Xander shrugged. "Never been vaccinated for anything that I remember. And no health records, either. I haven't been to a doctor in...eight? Or nine years. Not sure. I was in the...no, I wasn't. Spike had a doctor come to me. Spike?"

"No records, pet. Healer was strictly sub rosa. You've never been vaccinated?"

Xander just shook his head.

Spike glanced at the receptionist who had a very sour expression on her face. "If his tetanus shots aren't up to date he needs to get that attended to."

Xander nodded. "I'll see to that as soon as I can. Test? Or can I go home now?"

The hopeful expression on his face made the receptionist smile, but she shook her head. "Sorry, no. The doctor will be up to take you into the testing room in a few minutes. I understand you have some people with you who are going to be your tutors?"

Xander glanced at Giles, who nodded and stepped forward. "I'll be lead and Mr. Dalton is going to be doing most of the actual training. Is that what you call it?"

Xander sighed and waited while the receptionist explained that they didn't care what you called it as long as Xander got some help. She said that she preferred the term tutoring. Giles nodded his understanding, and their conversation wandered off into the vast and confusing territory that was education and learning disabilities.

To Xander's relief, a man came to collect him for his tests. He ambled along behind the man, peeking into doors as they went. When they reached their destination, Xander snickered; all the desks were a bit too small for his six foot plus frame.

"Um...desks are a tad small, don't you think?"

"Yes, but we'll go on through and into the parents' interview room. That's where we'll be testing you. I don't really think Winnie the Pooh is going to be much comfort to you. Oh, nearly forgot. My name is Henry Massingale. I'll be your tester."

Xander followed Henry on through the class room and into the interview room. It had a large table and several chairs right in the middle of it. The table had a deck of cards, a tablet, several books, and a few other odds and ends.

"Now, to start out, I understand that you have a secret language that you write in?" Henry managed to look interested, not condescending.

Xander blinked at him for a moment, wondering what the hell he was talking about then the light dawned. "Oh, um....it's not a secret language; it's Gregg." At Henry's puzzled look, he explained, "Shorthand. Old note taking method. Went out of fashion when recorders became more popular. I can read it easily, even though some of the forms are mirror images. I just put a dot on the leading side of them."

"Um...I see. So. First we'll have you draw what you see." Xander shifted uncomfortably. "Don't worry. None of the tests are pass/fail. I thought you'd already been told this?"

"Yeah, see me believing that a test isn't 'fail and look stupid'." Xander settled at the table when Henry gestured to a chair.

"Here's the first image. Just draw what you see."

Xander struggled with that task for several minutes then just put the pencil down. "I can't. I can look at that until the demons eat me and I'll never get it. What's next?"

So Henry picked up another image and showed it to Xander. Xander managed that one fairly easily, but when he saw the third one he flatly refused to even try. Henry didn't make a fuss; it wasn't that unusual for an older person to know exactly what they could and couldn't do, and it wasn't any use to push them. It only made the rest of the tests harder.

Henry spent the next two hours testing Xander, soothing his hesitancy, and putting up with his bursts of temper. He was used to this, especially from the older students. They mostly got over it when they realized that no one was going to laugh at them. Xander didn't seem to.

"Well, Xander, I'll have to admit that I'm a bit disappointed. You don't seem to realize that I'm not going to laugh at you or make fun. These little...temper tantrums don't become you."

Xander snorted sourly. "Look, I'm not the Zeppo anymore. I'm a grown man. And don't give me that, 'You're only nineteen' crap. I've seen and done shit that'd make your hair turn white. And I don't like taking tests. I'd rather take a beating. Now...are we done?"

"Yes, we're done. And I'll begin analyzing the data at once. It shouldn't take me more than half an hour. If I need more time, I'll let you know by then. Excuse me." Henry stalked out in what Xander could only describe as a snit.

Xander sighed and went to find Spike. It didn't take him long as Spike was exactly where Xander had left him, in the waiting room next to the receptionist's desk.

"Hey, I'm done. I think I pissed Henry off. He left in a snit when I refused to try to read Coptic. I can't. He didn't test me on anything I can read either. Can we go now? I'm hungry."

Spike shook his head. "We have to wait until the boffins do their thing. Once Giles and Dalton have all the info, we'll go have a steak. How's that?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, steak. And a baked potato and salad. Beer?" Xander licked his lips. "Yeah, beer. Real beer, not that pasteurized crap that most Americans drink."

Spike snickered. "Learned to drink the right stuff, did you, pet?"

Xander nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but Henry came in with a handful of papers and a scowl on his face. Xander sighed. That scowl meant that he wasn't getting his steak anytime soon. Instead he was going to get the 'doesn't pay attention in class, underachiever, should work harder' speech.

Henry nodded to Giles and Tom and motioned to a large conference room. "Let's go in there. There's plenty of room to sit and spread things out. I'm a bit confused so I need to ask some questions."

Xander sighed heavily; there went his hope of eating anytime soon. Spike poked him in the ribs and pointed to a chair. "Sit."

"Arf." Xander grinned at Spike, who swatted him on the shoulder.

"Stop that. We'll get you that steak, if I have to kill the cow myself."

Henry chuckled a bit. "Ok, you two. It's not that bad. Once I was told that Mr. Harris' secret code was Gregg Shorthand, I cleared a lot of questions off the board. The only thing I need to finish my diagnosis is a list of the languages you _can_ read."

Xander glanced at Spike who just raised an eyebrow at Xander. Xander rattled off the list of human languages that he could read and watched as Henry checked them against some sort of list he had.

"Ok. That's very interesting. Every language that you don't have a problem with is symbolic. And syllabic-based. Roman alphabet...hummm. I'd like you to put on these glasses and see if they help you any."

Xander accepted the cardboard glasses and settled them on his nose. He glanced at the paper, expecting the words to start wriggling, only they didn't. He checked twice.

"Ok, that's...really strange. Why...um...how?" Xander gave up in frustration.

"It's as simple and as complicated as the human brain. For some reason that no one can figure out, sometimes the brain just decides to be...difficult. There are as many theories on why as there are theoreticians. I'm not one of them. All I do is try to figure out what's wrong and what we need to do to help. In your case what you have is dyslexia. And not that bad a case as far as I can tell. These glasses and some retraining should see you well on your way to being a reader." He held up his hand. "I know. You claim to be able to read several languages, and I'm sure you can. There's no reason for you to lie. But that's not the problem; the problem is you can't read English. That's what we're going to fix."

He set out several books and a different pair of glasses. "These books are a good starter and these glasses are the best grade of the cardboard ones I had you use. Their refraction is a bit better too. If you like, you can go to an optometrist and have better ones still, although these frames are very nice."

Xander eyed the frames and decided he didn't like them much; they looked like Gargoyles, very good for shooting, but not very nice in an office. He'd ask Spike about others later.

Tom and Giles split the books between them and were lost at once. Henry only smiled and wondered at this boy who had three very powerful men caring for him. He wasn't sure exactly what the dynamics were, but the one named Tom was the lowest on the chain, then Giles, then Xander, and at the top Spike. This was very strange. Henry found himself a bit disgusted that he was never going to get this one figured out.

.

Xander took a deep breath of the desert night air. While he was being tested, the air had cooled while the concrete and asphalt were still pleasantly sun-warmed. He couldn't help a soft laugh.

"Well, now I know. I..."

Spike walked up behind Xander and just wrapped his arms around him. "I'm so sorry, pet. I know someone told you that you're slow. I should have...well, you wouldn't have believed me. Now that we know what's really going on, Giles and Dalton will...fix it? Is that what will happen?"

Xander shrugged. "I'm just glad I know I'm not stupid. I could read the English text...fairly well. At least the letters didn't crawl around on the page like bugs. But I really, really hate these glasses. They look like goggles. I might use them for woodworking; they might help with the inlay. I always have problems getting it symmetrical. I want neat glasses like Giles has. I like them. Small frames, intellectual. You know?"

Spike glanced at Giles, whose red face showed that he'd heard. Giles nodded then came over to tell Xander, "You can have any kind of frame you like. The lenses are prismatic and a bit difficult to make, but nowhere near impossible. You might like to have several pairs. In case of breakage, and so that you don't have to remember to carry a pair with you. It just depends."

Xander shrugged. "Not really sure, but I guess I'll be finding out."

Tom joined them, smiled at Xander , and said, "You won't be wearing them all the time, just for reading English or any other language that tends to crawl around. I'm really impressed at the number of languages you do read. They're all symbol-based; that was my first clue. Now I'll be working up a tutoring schedule that doesn't conflict with your other duties. Um...Master Spike?" Spike nodded. "I'd like to just go home and work on that, if you don't mind. I don't eat human food. No taste to it."

Spike nodded. "We'll go back to the manse, and I'll take Xander out from there. We might just go upstairs to the Luxor and eat in the Tender. It has the best steaks around. Xander?"

Xander grinned. "Sounds good to me. How do we get from the manse to the Luxor?"

"Elevator."

"Twit."

Spike just smirked. They were all feeling very good tonight.

.

Xander found that Tender's dress code was business casual, Timmins had made sure to find out the dress codes of all the best restaurants in Vegas. He liked the charcoal gray suit with its lighter grey cotton shirt. He was also very glad he didn't have to wear a tie.

"Are you sure that this is Ok?" Xander fiddled with the French cuffs, fastened with platinum cuff links.

"Quite. The suit is Armani, the shirt is made to measure Eton, and your shoes are Gucci. Yes, you're dressed properly. Relax. They'd let you in wearing rags if Master Spike wanted it."

"That's all well and good, but I don't want that, and I don't want to embarrass him." Xander grinned at the mirror, even though there was no reflection to smile at.

Timmins shook his head. "Would you rather have the Versace? It's very nice, too."

Xander thought about it. "No, I like this suit. I'll save the Versace for another time."

"As you wish. Master Spike said to give you these things." Timmins handed Xander a plain magnetic leather money clip with a thousand dollars in fifties and hundreds, and a credit card clasped in its grip. Xander sighed. The card probably wouldn't work, but you try explaining magnetic strips to a vampire as old as Timmins. He was also handed a handed a Blackberry Curve 8900. He tucked everything away in his pockets: the money in one trouser pocket, and the credit card in the leather Blackberry cover which he put in his inside jacket, and then he added something to the outer pocket. He patted himself down then asked. "No bulges?"

Timmins examined him carefully. "No, sir. You look fine. You better get going; you know how Master Spike hates waiting. Do you want your glasses?"

"No, those things are ugly. Make great welding goggles, but other wise? I don't think so."

Spike stuck his head in the door to see what was keeping Xander. "Oi, you coming or what?" A genuine smile of admiration flashed over Spike's face. "Well, hello beautiful. That suit really looks good on you."

Xander smoothed one lapel. "It really does. But I'm going to have to talk to a tailor. I can't wear a weapon under this one. They all show. But... Steak! Now."

Spike just nodded and motioned for Xander to follow him. He led the way down the hall between their rooms and the throne room. Just behind the throne room, the hall bent into a dead end with a rank of elevators across the back.

"You need a key to use these, or an escort. You have a key in your wallet; it looks like a blank credit card. Don't lose it."

"Ok, I wondered what that white card was, but I figured someone would tell me sooner or later."

Xander blinked in awe as the elevator doors opened to reveal what amounted to a small room. The couch across the back was upholstered in the finest leather, tufted and padded for comfort. There was a tiny refrigerator on one side with juice, soda and water in small bottles. Music played softly, and not Muzak, either. Spike announced the floor, and the doors closed. The elevator started smoothly and zipped them to the casino floor.

When they stepped out, Xander winced at the noise from the casino floors. The bonging of slot machines rose in a clamor that was almost painful. Spike noticed at once; the noise was very hard on his ears, but he was used to blocking out such things.

"Too loud? Would you rather go to Delmonico's?"

Xander grinned. "No, let's save that for some other occasion. I'll be Ok once we get into the restaurant. There's no way Tender's owner would allow all that noise to interfere with the conversation of their patrons. I hope."

They entered the establishment and were shown to a table at once. Spike admitted to having a permanent reservation for this particular day and time. Xander smirked at him.

"And where else do you have a permanent reservation?" He settled himself in the chair the maitre d' pulled out and let the man ease it back under the table as he did so. He kept his hands above the table, and so did Spike when he was seated. They also let the maitre d' put their napkins in their laps for them.

Xander took the menu and examined it for a moment. Spike just smirked and waited. Xander nodded to the server when he came over. "I'll have the New Zealand porterhouse, and the Hawaiian Blue Prawns, leave off the junk, sautéed organic mushrooms, the slow roasted russet potato, and baby organic spinach salad, no tofu. Spike, will you pick a wine?"

The server started to say something about Xander calling the plate up of rice pilaf, andouille sausage, and Louisiana gumbo 'junk', but shut up as he added up the cost of what he was ordering. At $128 and counting he wasn't about to snub the man. He turned to the blond and nodded, "Sir."

Spike nodded, "I'll have the same, and Guinness for both of us."

Xander noticed that the server hadn't asked how they wanted their steaks and, since he'd already walked off, leaned over the to whisper, "He didn't ask how we want our steaks. Why not?"

Spike chuckled indulgently. "Because, unless you want it other than rare, you have to ask." Spike glanced around and, catching sight of a plate going by, asked, "You didn't want any oysters, or caviar? You could have either, or both, you know."

Xander shook his head. "Some other time. I'm really in the mood for surf and turf, if you know what I mean. This place is great. I really like it."

Xander looked around himself and had to admit that the place was really nice. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice from behind him said, "Excuse me, Master Spike, could I speak to you for a moment?"

Spike looked up and nodded. He pointed to a seat at the side of the table. "Sit there. And talk quick. If you're still here when the food arrives you can forget it."

"It won't take me long. I'm an emissary from the Court of Las Vegas. We need to know when you're going to pick a new master of the city. Things have been getting out of hand for a while, and now that Master Goodness is dead, things are getting worse fast. I'm afraid that the humans are going to start noticing. I'm sorry to disturb you while you're eating, but we're getting desperate."

Spike sighed. "Well, I've already picked him. In fact, this dinner was going to be a celebration, and I was going to...ease him into the idea, but if things are as bad as you say..." The vampire just nodded. "I see. Xander, you're the new Master of Las Vegas. Enjoy your steak."

Xander just blinked for a second, then surprised Spike by saying, "Ok, complete control? Or do you want to keep your hand in?"

"Complete control with the option of yelling for me if you need to. I don't see you needing me much. If you can boss a construction crew you can deal with this. Especially as you can kill the really obnoxious ones."

Xander shifted in the U-shaped, tufted leather chair, making it squeak. "You think I can handle them?"

Spike snorted. "Sure you can, pet. You're really scary when you want to be."

Xander just shrugged and smiled, making the vampire representative groan silently.

The food came and Xander turned to his new minion. "What's your name?"

"Dominic Vigilante. I am...or was the third-in-command of the Court of Las Vegas. It is your option, of course, to get rid of all of us and install your own people." He stood, bowed and waited to be dismissed.

Xander nodded to him. "Well, Dominic, I think I'll leave well enough alone. We'll see how things go." Dominic turned to go. "Oh, Mr. Vigilante, don't expect me to make the usual jokes. Have a nice evening."

The server put plates on the table and left. Xander started on his salad. Spike just picked at his.

"Don't like it?" Xander couldn't hide his smirk.

"It's got apples in. And they put...looks like cheese, but it doesn't taste like it. I like the rest."

"That white stuff is tofu and the apples are Fuji. Just eat it." Spike pouted at Xander which made him laugh. That made Spike laugh.

When they were finished with the salads, the server came to take away the plates and ask if they wanted the rest of the service all together or as separate courses. Xander said all together, and Spike nodded his agreement.

The server brought their Guinness and said, "Ten to fifteen minutes, gentlemen."

Xander nodded, never realizing that he'd taken over from Spike. Spike just let him, enjoying watching Xander assert himself.

When the server brought the rest of their food, Xander eyed the potato on one plate, the mushrooms on another and the steak on a third and shrugged. He picked up the plate of mushrooms and slid them onto the steak then ordered another Guinness. Spike copied him and started to eat.

The steak was so tender it could be cut with a fork, the potato was mealy with a crisp herbed crust, and the mushrooms were perfect. Xander groaned softly. "Good, pet?"

"Mmmm, sooo good." Xander had to mumble around his mouthful of steak and mushrooms.

Spike took a bite of his steak and nodded. It was perfect; as far as he was concerned, all it needed was a bit of salt.

They ate in companionable silence until Xander idly asked Spike if their prawns would come soon. Spike had forgotten about them completely, but Xander hadn't. Spike looked around, found their server and motioned him over.

"We were supposed to have prawns as well. Go check to see where they are, please."

The server got a horrified, in a dignified sort of way, expression on his face. "I'm so sorry, sir. I'll check at once."

It wasn't long before the server was back with an excuse. "I'm so sorry; the...someone, decided that the order had to be a mistake as no one could eat all that food and since part of the order was changed they didn't make any prawns. They'll be just a little while. I'll bring them right over. And they're comped. Compliments of the management."

Spike nodded, and was about to speak when Xander spoke instead. "I'd like to talk to the manager, please."

The server just nodded and left, glad that the hard-eyed blond hadn't handed him his head on a plate.

"Why'd you do that, pet? I was just getting going."

Xander shook his head, chewing a bite of steak. He swallowed then said, "On the wrong person. Once the ticket is turned in, it's the job of the chef and the sous-chef to make sure the ticket is filled correctly. The server should have noticed, but as busy as they are tonight, I'm not surprised he didn't. Someone somewhere decided that the server didn't write things down right, but they never asked the server to check on the order. They just fixed it wrong. It's the manager's job to go yell at them. And take the heat."

Spike nodded to himself; this was clear proof that he'd picked right when he'd decided that Xander was the new Master of Las Vegas. "Ok, pet, I see. Can I have a shot at him or do you want to do it?"

"And why would I take that pleasure away from you? I'll learn from the best. Just make it snarky instead of loud. There's no need to upset other customers and ruin their night."

"Got it, pet. No yelling. Never be crude enough to do that anyway." Spike grinned, licking his lips in anticipation.

"Do not do that!" Xander grinned.

"And why not?" Spike was a bit hurt by that.

"Because it makes me want to drag you into a dark corner and fuck you until you faint."

Spike let his jaw drop, but didn't get to comment as the manager was coming to the table.

"I understand that there's been some problem? How can I make it right?" The manager started to sweat the second he realized which table this was. He wasn't involved with Under Las Vegas, but he knew power when he saw it. He assumed that Spike was some English millionaire. From the bit of conversation he'd overheard as he walked up probably inherited down a few centuries. And Xander looked like someone who'd made their money in construction or oil. So he was sweating this one.

"Yeah, a small problem." Xander winked at Spike to let him know that he wasn't trying to take the wind out of his sails. "Would you bring the ticket for our table and explain to us how you managed to screw up such a simple order?"

The manager turned to the server to ask for the ticket and was handed the slip of paper. He examined it carefully then looked at Spike. "I'm sorry? It's very plain. Someone changed their order and the prawns were crossed off." He handed the ticket to Spike who looked at it, handed it to Xander and drew a deep breath.

Spike let the breath out slowly and then said, "So, you're implying that your servers are so ineffectual that they can't even write out a ticket that simple without making mistakes? Do you need to retrain them? Or are you admitting that your kitchen staff can't read simple English?" The manager shifted uncomfortably. Spike hadn't been snarky or nasty; his entire speech was made in a friendly tone of voice, interested, and rather kindly. Xander was waiting for the clincher."

"No, sir, it's just that...no one eats like that."

"So...I'm no one then? Interesting." Spike steepled his fingers in front of his face.

The manager decided that his best bet was to keep his mouth shut, take it on the chin, and do his best to fix it.

"Nothing else to say?" The manager shook his head, sweating even more. Spike looked at Xander. "You, pet?"

"Yes. You see, I don't like the way someone, and I'm not asking who because I really don't care, decided that they knew better what I might eat than either my server or I did. Seems a bit high and mighty to me. Why didn't they send the server to ask what was wanted, instead of making up my mind for me? I'm paying for it; I should get the final say in what I'm eating. This isn't McDonald's, you know."

"Indeed, it is not." The manager couldn't contain himself any longer. "I'll have words with someone very soon, you can rely on that. As soon as I find out who changed the order, they'll be washing dishes instead of cooking. Now, I'm prepared to comp anything you like. Caviar, oysters, champagne. You name it, you'll have it."

"Death by Chocolate Cheesecake with hot fudge sauce and double whipped cream and cherries." Xander put the last bite of his steak in his mouth and chewed contemplatively. He swallowed and glanced at Spike. He blinked then turned to see the manager staring at the polished cherry paneling behind Spike. "Cheesecake? Now?"

The manager blinked again then hurried away. He was going to have to send out for the cake.

Xander gave Spike a rather cruel smile. "That was good. No yelling, no sarcasm, exactly. But he looked like he was about to pass out. You looked like you wanted to eat him. And not in the bite him on the neck way."

Spike shrugged. "I am actually a baronet; several centuries of ancestors and a century plus of intimidating minions and fledges helps a lot. But ..." He grinned. "You aren't too shabby yourself."

Xander snorted. "Construction workers really don't respond well to threats of physical violence so you better have a good cold look up your sleeve. I wonder if they'll actually get me cheesecake?"

"I'm sure they will. They'll have to send out for it, but I bet the whipped cream is whipped by hand."

Xander shrugged in a 'we'll see' sort of way and finished his Guinness.

"Would you like another?" The server was right there with a slightly fearful expression on his face.

"Coffee for me. Guinness is great, but it really doesn't go well with chocolate. Spike?"

"Coffee for me, as well." Spike smirked at Xander as the server went away to get their coffees. "About something you said earlier. You really think you could?"

Xander didn't pretend he didn't understand what Spike was talking about. "Don't know if I can, but I'd sure like to try. You?"

"All yours for one month. You want, I do." Spike smiled at Xander in a way that made his toes curl.

Xander managed not to leer at Spike too obviously.

They had to quit their teasing when Xander's cheesecake arrived. Xander didn't bother to remark that it wasn't quite right, he was happy with what he had. Spike watched in amazement as Xander nearly inhaled it. When he was finished Xander folded his napkin and stood up. He fished in his pocket for a moment then tossed a fifty on the table. "There. I know it wasn't his fault and the server isn't going to suffer for some cook."

Spike nodded. "We're supposed to stay at the table for the bill."

Xander shrugged, settling his jacket over his shoulders. "I don't care. I'm ready to leave now. We'll go to the bar and pay. Come on."

Spike followed Xander, admiring his straight back and firm buttocks. He was waiting for Xander to realize that he had taken charge of the evening with some interest.

Xander glanced back at Spike and waited for him to come to the bar. The bartender, alerted by the manager, didn't argue when Spike demanded to pay the bill there. He just shrugged and said, "It's on the house."

Spike shook his head. He wanted a good reputation with the restaurants so he wasn't about to allow them to comp the whole meal. "No, prawns are comped because we never got them, and the cheesecake; the rest, I pay for. What's the tab?"

The bartender took a bill from under the register and eyed it for a moment. "$310, that includes the drinks." Spike just handed the man four one hundred dollar bills, waited for his change, then handed back a ten. "Tell the manager that we'll be back."

Xander followed Spike out the door.

"You think I impressed the right people?"

Spike nodded. "I think so. Come on, I'll take you down to the demon levels and introduce you around. After all that food, you need the walk."

Xander just laughed. "I think we should take a walk, but to where?"

"Down to the levels below the sub-basements. Where the demons dwell." Spike let his eyes turn yellow. "Were you rule, or die. And, pet, I can't help you much, or you'll just get ambushed."

"You think I can handle it?" Spike nodded. "Ok, then I will. First meeting, I'll just get the lay of the land. I'd appreciate it if you'd hang around. Then we'll get together and decide who gets dusted and who doesn't. I'm not going to play patty-cake with them. I'll run it just like I would a job. Only they don't get fired; they just die."

Spike blinked. "Um...pet? I don't remember you being this ruthless. What happened?"

"You gave me a family and a place of my own. With the girls, I was just a tag-a-long, the Zeppo, the doughnut boy. You're giving me a whole city to take care of. It's going to take all I've got to do the job. But if you think I can, then I can. Simple, easy, and when I figure out who ever told you I was nice, I'll...think of something nasty to do to them."

Spike looked Xander over in admiration; Timmins had been right. Xander was much more than he ever let on. "Ok, pet."

"Spike, I always thought there was something wrong with me because I couldn't read simple English, but I could read all those other languages. Now...yeah, there's something wrong with me, but I'm not stupid, just different. Different, I can handle. I feel...relieved...free. I can't exactly explain it. But I am different from my old self. You'll see. I'll do you proud. Come on, introduce me to my court."

"Ok, this way."

Xander followed Spike out the front entrance of the Luxor and into the car park in front; his Hummer was there waiting.

The drive to his court didn't really take that long, but Xander didn't like it.

"It's too far. I don't like this. I've got a Residence I'll never use and this drive leaves me way too exposed. Why don't we move my court to the throne room at our place? We can use the Vegas Master's Residence for guests and really impress the hell out of them."

Spike laughed. "You're supposed to demand that your court be at least as elegant as mine, not give up your court entirely."

"What? I don't need a more elegant throne room than yours when I can just use yours instead. And that keeps me from having to take a dangerous drive. And that reminds me, when's Mr. Yakov coming? I thought he was supposed to be here by now."

Spike leaned back in the seat. "He got held up a bit. I'm not sure exactly why; he had to go to Israel, I think."

"You didn't get pissy with him, did you?" Xander gave Spike a suspicious look.

"No, getting pissy with him is like getting pissy with me. Doesn't do anything but put my back up. Him, too."

"Hmmm. Wonder what's up with him then." Xander glanced out the window, saw that they were almost at the court, and settled back in his own seat. "We're there. You get out first?"

"Yeah, then you. Follow me into the court, I'll introduce you, and we'll see who opens their stupid gob."

Xander gave Spike a truly predatory grin. "Ok, you going to eat them or do I get to stake them? Oh, and you do remember that I'm not armed?"

"Yeah, we need to get some things out of the back. Come here."

Xander walked around to the back of the Hummer and waited while Spike produced his swords. Smiling, Spike handed them to Xander who just raised his eyebrows.

"You don't have to try to hide them here. They'll expect you to be armed so you might as well shove them in their faces. Jacket." Xander handed Spike his suit jacket and Spike handed him a leather jacket instead. "Good, good. You look kick ass. Come on."

Xander shook his head. "No, did you bring my boots?"

"Yeah, I brought your good ones...but...oh, loafers? No, just no. Boots...boots...where? Ah, here they are." Spike produced a pair of short boots and handed them to Xander. Xander sat on the tailgate and pulled them on. They were zip-sided, soft-soled, and comfortable. "Ready now?"

Xander stood, nodded, and announced, "Ready. Let's go kick ass."

They strode up to the doors and through them; the guards cringed back, looking confused. Spike led the way, but Xander was only a step behind him and to the right. The inner doors of the throne room opened and the two marched straight to the dais. Spike pointed to Xander.

"This is the new Master of Las Vegas. He is human, my Companion, and untouchable. Fear him. He is my right hand, my sword and my shield. He drinks my blood."

Xander gazed over the group with a cold eye. "Anyone have anything to say? Say it now...or don't say it at all."

There were a few titters and Xander glowered. "I don't think I said anything funny. If I tell a joke, you laugh, and I'll make sure you know it's a joke. Otherwise, no one laughs. If you do, you'll be laughing out of the other side of your head, real quick. Got me?"

There were a few nods, and a lot of ugly expressions. Xander shrugged; this was not going to end well, for someone other than him. He turned to Spike. "You want to choose or should I?"

"I'll choose, pet, I think I've still got a better eye for the real problem ones. I pick 'em, you slay 'em. Ok?"

Xander just ran his eye over the nearly empty court room. "Ok, but the pickin's are pretty slim. What's with that?"

Spike glanced at Xander out of the corner of his eye. "I stole all the good ones from you."

Xander shrugged easily. "Oh, that's Ok then. I'll be closing this mess down like you asked. The ones who go with better be the best of the best; the rest stay here to serve the guests. Now..." He turned back to the group of twenty or so and grinned at them again. "Who do you want beheaded?"

Spiked glared around; he already knew who the troublemakers would be. Years of experience and harsh training at the hands of Angelus made him quick to figure that out.

Spike pointed the three minions he'd chosen out and said, "That one, that one, and him. Kill them for me."

Xander just stepped off the dais and readied his tachi, the gladius he handed to Spike. "Here, hold this for me, please."

Spike took the sword and waited for Xander to do something. He didn't. He just stood and waited. He let the chosen vampires circle him then smirked at Spike. "You remember that I'm not at my best, right?" Spike stiffened; he had forgotten, but it didn't seem to bother Xander much. He just stood there waiting for something.

When the vampires began circling him he let his head droop. One of the vampires sneered, which was his undoing. Xander drew the sword and whirled, sheathing it again. A drift of dust swirled in the breeze of its passing.

The other two vampires glanced at each other then attacked together. Xander unsheathed his sword again and leapt into the air, flipping over the head of one vampire, he landed outside the circle and whirled, sword lashing out again, another drift of dust made Spike smile. The third vampire tried to run and got four steps away from his starting place before Xander caught him. His despairing wail was cut off, just like his head. Xander's hard, cold look drifted over the remaining vampires pinning the few he thought might cause trouble with a clear warning, "Get out of line, die."

Xander returned to Spike's side, wiping his sword on a cloth. He sneezed several times.

"You Ok?"

"Yes, a snoot full of vamp dust always does that to me. We done here?"

"No, now you hold court. I'll sit in. Just in case you need some advice."

Xander made a pouty face. "Do I have to? You're better at this than I am. I don't know the customs and stuff."

"Don't need to. It's your court, make up your own rules. I'm gonna. Tired of all this tradition this and tradition that. My court, my rules, get over it."

Xander grinned. "Ok." He turned to the room. "You heard him. And after tonight, there's going to be a combined court. Get over that, too."

So Xander settled on his throne and listened to the complaints and needs of the remainder of his court. It didn't take him long to handle most of the problems. They were just the usual he stole my 'fill in the blank' and I want it back, and he insulted me and I want revenge, him punished, 'Daddy, make him stop'. Xander wondered how Spike kept from dusting the bunch of them and vowed to find a way to get out of this, permanently.

The last petitioner was Dominic Vigilante. He approached the dais, bowed to Xander then to Spike. Xander raised an eyebrow and Spike blandly explained, "It's your court so he bows to you first. Find out what's on his mind and let's go home." Xander nodded to Dominic who had waited patiently until Xander and Spike were finished talking.

"I'm sorry to report that a group of...I'm not sure what kind of demons...are causing a great deal of trouble in Under Venice. We're losing revenue. Something must be done, by you. I've tried negotiating, but it didn't work. Please, I need your help."

Xander pulled at his lower lip, making Spike bite his. "Not sure exactly what you want me to do. I'm open to suggestions, so speak up. If I don't like your idea there won't be any...trouble. I'll just tell you your idea sucks. So spit it out."

Dominic gulped then told Xander. "The only way to handle this is to challenge the chief of the tribe to mortal combat, I think."

Xander made a face. "Ok, that's the sort of thing that'll get me pissed. Don't know what kind of demon they are, aren't sure how to shut them down, but you expect me to do something when you know nothing. When you know what kind of demon they are and what I need to do to make them quit scaring off the paying customers, come back. Now, I'm going home and have hot ..." Spike swatted Xander. "Cocoa. Yup, with little marshmallows. The first person who laughs will have real problems. Come on, let's blow this pop stand."

Spike snickered and led the way. Xander followed, not bothering to look back; he knew that no one would attack from behind.

.

Xander stopped Spike at the tail gate of the Hummer. "Where the hell did you get this? It's great, don't get me wrong."

"I had it especially made just for you. Single extension. Three seats instead of two, U-shaped back seat, TV, wet bar, cell phone repeater, computer, and the best stereo system available. In the back there's a full weapons chest containing swords, battle axe, morning star, hand guns in 9mm, 10mm, .45, and .357 magnum calibers. Long guns in MAC-10, AR-15, and 30-06. Two sawed off shotguns, 10 gauge, and plenty of ammo. There's food, water, soft drinks from soda to juice in the wet bar with refills here, and a full medic kit. Check that out and decide if you want other stuff in it. It's rated for a platoon, but it's up to you."

Xander smirked genially, "You know, I'm really glad you got me this. It's a real war-wagon. And I'm gonna need it. Las Vegas seems to be completely out of hand. I'm going to have a hell of a time getting it under control again. Come on, I'm done here."

"Bossy, much?" Spike just grinned at Xander. He was wondering what Xander had on his mind besides Las Vegas.

"Yeah, my month is only two days on. Get in the car." Xander gave Spike a no nonsense look and Spike shrugged in return. He wasn't sure what Xander had in mind, but he wasn't complaining.

"I'm nineteen years old." Spike winced, he'd managed to miss the boy's birthday. "And I'm in fairly good health. You're always going on about vampiric recovery time; want to put it up against a horny teenager?"

Spike climbed into the Hummer then turned to look at Xander in puzzlement. "Sure, but...I'm not sure what you have in mind."

"You never had a wank-fest with Angelus?" Spike shook his head, a slightly dazed expression on his face. "Oh, well, that's a real disappointment. Here." Xander found his jacket, reached into the side pocket and pulled out a pillow packet of lube and tossed it to Spike, then got out one for himself. "And there's more where that came from."

Spike couldn't help himself; he got a case of giggles that left him helplessly holding his sides. Xander just smirked at him until he got himself back together again. "And what are we going to do about the inevitable consequences of wanking?"

Xander reached over the back of the seat into the space between the back of the back seat and the weapons chest. "Timmins thinks of everything." He tossed Spike a towel with a convenient hole right in the middle of it, neatly bound in blanket stitching in a complimentary color. Spike nearly hurt himself he laughed so hard.

Xander just unzipped his fly, arranged his own towel, and raised an eyebrow at Spike. Spike ran his tongue over his teeth, and then grinned back. They settled themselves then had to laugh again when the chauffer asked them where they wanted to go over the intercom. Xander punched the send button and said, "Cruise the Strip." The car started away and they began.

They were soon sweating and panting. Xander flinched as Spike cried out and came hard; he followed almost immediately. Spike held out his hand, announcing, "One, and I need more lube."

Xander handed over more of the foil pillows, opening one for himself. "There. Use all you want, there's plenty." He settled back to wait for his breathing to come back to normal then growled as he realized that Spike was at it again. "Fuck! Already?"

Spike grunted, "Yeah." And ejaculated hard. Xander just glared. "Go lookin' at me like that too long and your face'll freeze that way."

Xander just snarled and went back to what he was doing. He took longer to come again and realized that tonight, two was his limit. "Damn, alright already. I give, two's it."

Spike stroked himself to one last orgasm and smirked at Xander. "What was that about youthful enthusiasm? Just remember age and experience will overcome every time."

"Not to mention the fact that you cheat."

"Me?" Spike gave Xander an exaggeratedly hurt look. "What makes you say that?"

Xander narrowed his eyes at Spike. "I dunno. Evil, undead vampire? Or something." He grinned. "But never mind, did you have fun?"

Spike laughed softly. "Any time I have orgasms with you, it's fun." He wrinkled his nose. 'Ugh...we better clean up. This is just nasty."

Xander concurred and handed over a tub of baby wipes, which Spike took with another laugh. "We'll go back home and take a walk in the gardens. I want to talk to you about a few things, and I want to just relax with you for a while. How do you feel?"

Xander took a moment to tell the chauffer to take them home.

"Good, I'm really recovering fast. I expected to be recuperating for at least another week."

"My blood is really doing its job, now that you're getting enough and it's not diluted by something. I'll need to bite you again soon. I need more of your blood to solidify the link I'm forming between us. This is what makes you more than a thrall. Still like to have a few harsh words with Red...but wi—want in one hand and shit in the other."

Xander nodded, remarking while he stuffed things into a trash bag, "Right, but what the hell, you don't see me complaining. Timmins better remember to get this out of the car. I don't want my vehicle smelling like sex."

"When has Timmins ever forgotten anything?"

"Never." Xander looked up. "And we're here."

They took a small side entrance down to the gardens, Xander noticed that it was guarded by two huge demons which made him feel better about an entrance to his gardens so close to the 'front door'.

Spike opened the door to the long hall way that led down at a slant to the gardens. The hall was painted like an ancient Egyptian funerary hall. Very fancy, with lots of walking men, women, priests, and animals. Interspersed between these walking figures were panels of hieroglyphics.

Xander enjoyed looking at the figures, but laughed at one of the panels. "Oh, boy, you got cheated here."

Spike looked at the elegant painted fresco of a bull, a priest and a queen. "Yeah? What's wrong with it?"

"Well, it's in the wrong styles, or rather the figures and the script styles aren't from the same time period, and it's...um...for lack of a better way to put it, spelled wrong." He pointed to a line of characters. "See? This walking priest, and then double feathers, and an arm, then a basket? Doesn't mean a thing. It's nonsense. The rest of it is just a conglomeration of words strung together. This says, "Dog, grain, water, run, come, go, and...this is nonsense again."

Spike gritted his teeth. "I'll have someone's guts for garters, I will."

Xander put his arms around Spike, "You do that, lover. And I'll have fun redoing it. There's something really nice I'd like to have there instead of that. Come on. Let's get into the gardens and plan a few things." He kissed Spike on the cheek with gentle affection and led him on into the gardens. Spike sighed happily and followed; it seemed he hadn't messed up as badly as he'd thought.


	32. Chapter 32

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: 32/?

Word count: 8459

Rating:Mature

Disclaimer:Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Warnings:Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language,

Parings: Spike/Xander

Beta: aayesha_r (due to last minute rewriting, all remaining mistakes are mine.)

Xander ordered the parts of the mural that he had marked to be over painted in eggshell. He was checking and cross checking his references carefully. He was going to do the mural himself, and he was going to make sure that it was right.

He hummed softly as he checked his list of colors. He was going to the strip mall he was familiar with. He had to get paints, and he wanted to look at the new Two Cherries tools again. He really had all the tools he needed, but he couldn't help looking. You could never have enough tools.

He turned and nearly ran into Spike. "Damn it! I swear I'm going to put a bell on you."

Spike grinned, leered really, at Xander. "Where are you going, pet?"

"Hardware store and a quick drop in at a tool store right next door. Wanna come?"

"In more ways than one. But this'll do for now." Spike gave Xander one of his more lecherous looks, grinning and running his tongue over his teeth.

Xander just grinned back. "Later. I've got plans for later. Can we take bikes? I want to ride that Harley you brought me home on."

"Sure thing, pet, if you're qualified."

Xander drooped a bit. "I don't have a license to drive a motorcycle."

"Don't care about a license, now, do I? Can you ride?" Spike rolled his eyes in aggravation.

"Oh, yeah, I can ride. Uncle Rory taught me. So can we?"

"Sure, I said yes, didn't I?"

They laughed together then headed for the garage. Xander had to smile a bit. He was really looking forward to their ride.

"Oh, before I forget, Yakov said your first class is tomorrow at 4am. Don't be late."

Xander just shrugged. "Ok. I just hope he doesn't kill me."

Spike vamped before he even thought about it. "He better...."

Xander held up his hands in a surrender gesture. "Easy, easy. He won't. 'Don't kill the students; they're payin' for the beans.'"

Spike shook his vampire face away. "Yeah, you're right. But don't say stuff like that; my demon doesn't like it."

"Really? Why not? It's not like I believe it. He'll be rough on me, but that's fine. Rather a bruise from a friend than a stab from an enemy. Here's the garage; where's my bike?" Xander pushed the door open and stepped into the garage.

Spike followed him in and led the way to where the bikes were parked. They didn't see any attendants and that made Spike growl a bit. Xander hushed him, found the helmets and keys, and handed Spike his.

"Come on, let's go. Yell at the help later. I want to ride, and I need to get to the hardware store before it closes at 9pm."

Spike looked at his watch and said, "It's going on seven now. Sundown isn't until 7:20 something."

Xander sighed; the desert wasn't friendly, especially to vampires. Summer was the worst as the sun didn't go down until very late. He knew why they called it 'the city that doesn't sleep', but some days he wished it would. He liked riding a bike. He knew riding doubles with Spike was great, but he wanted to ride partners with him.

"Well, shit. That doesn't give me much time." Xander started to put his helmet on the seat of the bike.

"Gives us plenty of time." Spike grinned at Xander then pulled the full face helmet on; he slapped the face shield down, and Xander realized that it was mirrored. Spike pulled on gauntlets and was completely covered from head to toe. His leather pants tucked into his boots, and his jacket was mandarin-collared. It wasn't that unusual to see someone wearing full leathers, even in the desert heat. The night chill made them almost mandatory. And Nevada's helmet law made the full face common.

Xander put his own full face helmet on and mounted up.

They rode out in a staggered side-by-side formation, easing into traffic smoothly. Spike rode behind Xander for two reasons: one, he wanted to make sure Xander really knew what he was doing, and two, he wanted to look at his ass. He managed both without wrecking himself.

Xander led the way, knowing quite well exactly what Spike was doing. He vowed to follow Spike back; why should Spike be the only one to enjoy the view?

They reached the mall, parked the bikes, and ambled under the deep overhang. All the sidewalks were covered due to the hot sun of Nevada and were in heavy shade; in other words, Spike-safe.

"Nice, pet, you like this mall?" Spike pulled his helmet off and looked around.

"Yeah, I do. I used to come here after work, just to walk around and window shop. I found a store that specializes in woodworking tools. They've got some really nice stuff. Um...."

Spike laughed and announced, "You know I moved everything, including your shop."

"Yeah, I haven't had time to do more than take a look. All that nice wood. Beautiful stuff. I want to work with it, but...."

Spike interrupted Xander, his sharp face bland. "Xander, if you want to do woodworking, just put it in your schedule and make it stick." He eased one arm around Xander's waist. "Love, you're the boss, unless I say you're not." He smirked at Xander who smirked back.

"Ok, I see. I think what I'll do is sit down with Mr. Dalton, Mr. Giles, and Master Chen ... oh, and Mr. Ptomkin. I'll have to figure out a schedule that'll allow me to do all the things I want to do as well as what I'm supposed to do. I'll give it to our secretary. Court is going to take a big, big bite out of my time." Xander gave Spike a rather hopeful look.

"Can't do it. You have to hold your own court, or you'll never have the respect that you need to be my Consort."

"Your what?" Xander gave Spike a blank look.

"Ask Giles about it. I'm crap at explaining that sort of thing. Where are we going?"

"There." Xander pointed out the home store and headed that way. "I want paints to fix the mural and some sandpaper then I want to go to the woodworking shop and look at some tools."

"I thought you had every tool known to man. Isn't that enough?"

"Never. You speak sacrilege. A man can never have too many tools."

Spike laughed and followed Xander into the store.

"And how are we going to get all this stuff back on bikes?"

Xander smirked over his shoulder. "They deliver." He glanced around then pointed. "Over here."

After he had spent nearly 45 minutes spent in consultation with a clerk, Spike was ready to drag Xander away by the ear. He had matched his colors and ordered his paints, given the man the address for the delivery, and was now picking out brushes and other supplies. Spike was bored. He glanced at his watch; they'd been there over an hour.

"Ready? I'm all done; they'll deliver it in the morning." Xander grinned at Spike. "Bored, aren't you?"

"Yeah, nearly as interesting as watching the paint dry."

Xander's fond gaze held Spike in place for a moment then he gave Spike a rather predatory look. "Too bad. I've got a visit to the woodworking store then...." He smirked, something Spike was glad to see he was getting very good at.

"Then what? What? Xander!" Spike glared in disbelief at Xander's retreating back. Xander just laughed and kept walking.

"Oi, evil git, you are. Wait up." Spike hurried to catch up to Xander who just grinned at him and snagged his hand.

They wandered down the mall, gazing in windows and gossiping about various things. Finally Spike asked, "Hey, where's that store? I thought you said it was right next door."

"It is... on the other side." He shrugged when Spike gave him a mock annoyed glare. "I wanted to window shop."

Spike mumbled something that sounded like, "Buy all the windows you want," then snickered.

Xander ignored him in favor of looking at wood chisels. He had his eye on a special set of Two Cherries brand mini tools made especially for working with inlay and parquetry. He really wanted them, even though he had a nice set already.

"I want these and some good polish; I'm almost out of that. And there's a new kind of plane I want. And a finger rasp, and...."

Spike just laughed, cutting Xander off in mid-babble. "Get whatever you want. But... pet, what the hell is a finger rasp?"

Xander snickered; he knew what kind of images the name engendered in Spike's ever perverted mind. "It's a small scraper that fits on the end of one finger; makes it easy to get into tight places. Pervert."

"You know it." Spike replied proudly. "I'm a vampire, pet. What do you expect?"

Xander just swatted him on the shoulder and returned to his shopping.

Xander finished quickly, made arrangements for delivery, and turned to Spike. "I want to just ride. Can we do that? Just go?"

"Sure, any particular place? Or just ride?" Xander gave Spike a slightly disgusted look then nodded. "Just makin' sure, love. Think you'd like to cruise the Strip?"

Xander grinned and nodded. "That'd be great. It's dark enough now, let's go."

So they mounted their bikes and roared away, headed to cruise the Strip for an hour or two.

Spike didn't need to see a watch; his senses made him aware of the hour in plenty of time to go back home.

They entered the garage in a surprisingly sedate way, Spike in the lead. They both knew the dangers of entering a dimly lit garage from a brighter area. Even with minimal lighting, the street lights had made it dangerously blinding. They eased down the entry ramp, the growl of the motors echoing off the walls.

Spike led the way into the bay where the bikes were all parked and eased the big machine onto its kickstand. He watched in appreciation when Xander did the same, unaware that doing this made his pants stretch across his backside in a very attractive manner.

"Xander, let's go up to the street level and just walk around a bit. What cha say?"

Xander tossed his helmet to a nearby mechanic and ran his hands through his hair, flipping the war locks behind his ears. "Sure. Sounds like fun. Maybe we can visit a buffet? I'm hungry."

"Sure, pet, buffet, whatever. But we need to be in by... nine or so. I think Giles might arrange your meeting by then. I'll call and see." Spike fished his cell phone out of his pocket as he walked and speed dialed their secretary.

When she answered, Spike asked her about the meeting; her reply was everything that Xander could have wanted. She said that Giles had arranged it for 3am so they had plenty of time to eat, spend some time together, and still not be late. Spike flatly announced that Xander was never late to a meeting. Xander gave him a slightly puzzled look, and Spike shrugged. "They wait on you, not the other way around. Never apologize for being late, even if it's hours after time. Got me?"

Xander favored Spike with one of his more ruthless looks. "I do. Over there." He pointed to the buffet he was interested in. "Looks nice."

"Ok. We should talk about your ideas for a schedule while we eat. Get some things straight in your head."

Xander thought about that as they crossed the street. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Present them with a preliminary schedule, a starting point. But they're going to have to adjust their schedules to meet mine, not the other way around. I'm boss, and this is the way it is."

"That's right. Good for you, you're thinking like a boss."

Xander shrugged, making his leather jacket creak. "I am a boss. I ran a crew. I can do things no one else can. And I can beat the pants off most of the people Master Bruce puts me up against. I even got him once."

Spike looked suitably impressed. "Can you now? That's good. Very good. Here." Spike handed Xander a tray with a package of utensils on it.

They made their way down the line, pointing out what they wanted. Spike was happy to see that Xander picked a well balanced meal, a bit heavy on meat, but he was still way too skinny so Spike didn't say anything.

Xander found them seats and settled with his back to a wall. "This looks really good. I bet Timmins is glad we live in Vegas now. He was always having to cook for me. This gives him time to himself. Bet that's nice for him."

Spike sipped his coffee for a moment. "Don't think so. He's been a servant all his life and unlife. He likes serving us for some reason or other. I think he gets bored when we're not around to manage. He's been grumbling about nothing to do for days now."

Xander thought about that for a few bites. "Oh, well... never thought of it that way. I guess we're really lucky to have him then. And I won't feel guilty about asking him to get me a wardrobe worthy of my station. I need suits, and I'm shit at picking them. Mom always said that I look like a mortician."

"Well, it's better than looking like an escapee from the 70's. Look." Spike nodded his head sideways.

Xander looked carefully in the direction that Spike indicated. He was amused to see two men in polyester suits standing in the doorway. They were looking right at Spike with sneers on their faces.

"What's that about?"

Spike sighed. "Not sure, but it's not going to be fun. For anyone."

Xander just returned to eating, mumbling around a mouthful, "If they come over here, I hope their insurance is paid up. Spoil my dinner and see what you get."

Spike sighed again. "Looks like they're headed this way."

Xander just put his fork down and stood up.

He met the men halfway between their table and the door. Spike followed after, frowning.

Xander just stood waiting for someone to say something. Finally, one of the men cleared his throat and snapped, "You're the new boss of Vegas? We were expecting someone a bit older. We need to talk."

Spike stepped back to let Xander handle this himself. He didn't recognize the men; he didn't need to. They were dumb muscle and not much more. He also wondered who was stupid enough to send men like this to Xander.

Xander looked at one man then the other. He decided that, as they were real humans, he'd give them the benefit of the doubt. "Ok, talk. Come to our table, I want to finish my dinner."

He turned around just in time to see Spike stop a bus boy from taking their plates which pissed him off. He plopped rather inelegantly into his chair and picked up his fork again.

"Ok, you nearly lost me my dinner so I'm not in the mood for small talk. What do you want?"

One of the men looked at the other then snapped, "I don't want anything; my boss wants a meet."

The other man just rubbed his face with one hand then asked, "Are you a pet, thrall, Companion, or what?"

Xander looked at Spike for the answer to that. "He's a Companion now. He started out as a thrall, but he's had enough of my blood to be a Companion." Xander gave Spike a wide-eyed look at that comment. "An' don't look at me like that. You are, get over it."

Xander grinned and continued eating.

"Well, both of you look damned young to me."

Spike snarled, "I'm over a hundred. What _do_ you want?"

"Our boss wants a meet with the Master of Las Vegas. Come on, we'll take both of you to him."

Xander snorted. "He wants a meet, he can petition like everyone else. I'll meet with him when he makes an appointment to come to me and not before. Get up and leave." He stayed calm, which impressed Spike. He gave both men looks that made them get up and do as he said.

"Well, that went well. Wonder who they were from." Spike poked at his now cold food.

"Don't know, don't care. They can all come to me or go to hell, don't care which. And since when, exactly, am I a Companion instead of a thrall?"

Spike shoved his plate away and shrugged. "Since about a week ago. You've gotten enough of my blood now to make your status change. Mad?"

"No, not mad, just... I wish you would _tell_ me stuff like that. I hate finding out the details from a third party, and that includes Giles." Xander finished his food and got up. "Come on. I'm tired of talking with my mouth full. Let's go home."

They looked out the window and decided it was too busy to walk back across the street. Spike led Xander into the basement, dodging the few people who might object, and led the way to a series of tunnels that got them back across the street; they found themselves in one of the service areas near the residence. Spike pointed the way to the elevator down to the residence.

Xander leaned against the wall of the elevator in a snit.

"What is it?" Spike put his arm around Xander's waist and tucked one hand into his belt.

"Just... Do you really think anyone is going to let me be master of anything?"

"No, I don't." Xander gave Spike a tired look. "No one is going to let you do much of anything in this world. You make them suck it up and take it. You rule by ruling, not by waiting for permission."

Xander gave Spike a thoughtful look then nodded. "Ok, I get that. So... I just tell them like it is and make it stick?"

"Yup. And how you make it stick is your business. I'll help if you need it, but you have to ask."

Xander grumbled something in a sour tone and sort of stomped out the elevator door. Spike followed with an amused smirk pointed at Xander's back.

.

Spike watched Xander as he padded quietly down the ramp to the gardens. He noticed that Xander checked the patches of blank wall, touching them with a finger.

"What's that all about?"

"Just checking." They went back up the ramp, heading toward their private quarters. "If the paint is dry enough, I'll be able to fix this. Tomorrow, I think. Or day after. Depending on one thing and another." Spike had to snarl a bit; he'd been had and he didn't like it. "Ok, Mr. Cranky Pants, I'll deal with your cheater. I'm Master of Las Vegas; I'll call him on the carpet and get to the bottom if this." Xander opened the door of their private quarters and pulled Spike through it. "After I get to your bottom."

Spike let out a little whimper; this was only the beginning of his penalty. He was looking forward to what Xander had planned now. The boy had an imagination that just didn't quit. And he had endurance. Spike knew that it was due to his blood, but that didn't make it any the less pleasant.

"Spike, come here." Spike scurried to do what Xander asked. He didn't care that it was undignified, nor that he was obeying his Companion; all he cared about was the fact that they were going to share some mind blowing sex.

Xander pulled Spike into his arms and carried him to the bed. Spike snickered into his neck, but didn't protest. Xander tossed Spike in the general direction of the bed and let him manage to land on it for himself; he wasn't some fainting damsel who couldn't take care of himself. Spike yelped once then swore at Xander in a genial sort of way.

"Oi, asshole, watch what you're doin'. I could have gotten a bruise."

Xander leaned into the bathroom just far enough to grab a towel. "Sure you could. But you didn't. Quit whining." He tossed the towel down on the bed and flopped on top of it. He reached over and started tearing Spike's clothing off. Spike didn't bother to protest as Xander was tearing his own off, too.

Spike laughed happily; things were working out a lot better than he thought they would. After his mistake in losing his temper, he thought Xander would be put off of him for a while. He hadn't counted on Xander's great heart and loving forgiveness. He was really enjoying his punishment much more than he'd anticipated. Xander was a gentle and considerate lover and just kinky enough that Spike was kept wondering what was coming next. He didn't mind that as long as he was coming, sooner or later.

Xander tossed the last of their clothing onto the floor and ran a hand over Spike's belly. It was hard and smooth. "Mmmm, nice. Pretty vampire."

Spike blinked for a second, distracted by what Xander's hands were doing. "Oi!! Not pretty! 'M not a bint!"

Spike's indignation made Xander snicker.

"No, you're most certainly not a bint. I think." Xander grinned at Spike and continued to rub circles on his stomach. "What's a bint?"

"A girl, you git!" Spike started to say more, but Xander's hand reached its goal, and he forgot what he was going to say. When Xander's sword-calloused hand closed over his erection, his brain went out the window. All he could do was hold his breath, not that he needed to breathe, and wait to see what would happen next.

Xander leaned down and licked the head of Spike's cock. He nearly exploded right there and then. "No coming until I tell you you can."

"Xanderrrrrr." Spike's whine made Xander snicker with Spike's cock in his mouth. Spike nearly came just from watching this.

Xander wrapped his hand around the base of Spike's cock and squeezed gently, laughing slightly as Spike moaned. Spike decided that he was going insane; how the hell could Xander snicker and laugh with his mouth full?

Xander continued to torment Spike, licking and sucking him, until Spike could only moan and wriggle under the assault.

He finally broke, whimpering in surrender, "Xan, pet, do something. Anything. I'm losin' my mind here."

Xander grinned cheerfully at Spike, making him glare. "Ok, roll over. On your knees."

Spike rolled over and presented himself. Xander sighed, "You're so... if I say beautiful will you laugh at me?"

"No. But 'm not beautiful. I'm a man. I'm handsome." Spike glowered over his shoulder. "You gonna do something, or just look."

Xander smacked Spike on the buttock, making him yelp. "Yeah, I'm going to do something." Xander picked up the lube from where he'd tossed it and popped open the top. The soft popping sound made Spike shiver.

"Ok, this is cold. Give me a sec." Xander held the lube for a moment to warm it a bit then he smeared some on himself and the rest on Spike. "You need prep?"

Spike snapped, figuratively and literally, "Damn it, what the hell am I, some sort of... just fuck me already."

Xander just slid one finger into Spike. "I'm not going to hurt you. You never hurt me. So, prep."

Spike nearly snarled in frustration; he was hard, ready, willing, and pissed. "Damn it."

Xander snatched his finger out and lined up. "Ok, Ok. Grumpy."

One steady push and Xander was seated in Spike up to the hilt and easing back out again. Spike just groaned, "Oh, god," and waited. He didn't have to wait long; Xander started a steady, slow thrusting that dragged the head of his erection over nerves that sent sparks up Spike's spine and into his brain. All Spike could do was kneel and enjoy, a lot.

Xander kept up his motions, groaning softly, "Oh, man. Spike, you feel sooooo good. Fuck."

Spike started rocking to meet each thrust, making Xander see stars. Xander grabbed Spike and flipped him, pulling out and jamming back in easily. Spike just grunted once and pulled his legs up to his chest. Xander leaned over and braced himself on the mattress, one hand on either side of Spike's head. Their eyes met and Xander grinned, "Nice vampire."

"Fuck, Xander; fuck now, talk later."

"'k."

A few seconds later Spike groaned, "Let me come. Please? I'm about to lose my mind."

Xander gritted his teeth to keep from moaning then said, "Come when you're ready."

Spike slid his hand down his belly and grasped his erection; stroking quickly, he brought himself to completion. Xander felt the convulsions as Spike clenched around him and came as well.

They collapsed in a sweaty, happy heap on the mattress and rolled apart. Xander scrabbled for the towel, found it, and wiped himself off. He handed Spike the towel, and Spike scrubbed himself down, too. He turned to say something to Xander and found him out cold.

Spike gave him an indignant poke which produced nothing more than a grunt. "Oi, ya better not snore." Xander mumbled, rolled over, and started snoring. "Damn it." Spike rolled the other way and tried to go to sleep, too.

.

Timmins smiled to himself; he knew both Spike and Xander and knew that they would be hungry in no time. He started fixing them something to eat. He liked it that his master ate. It made Timmins happy that he could do more to please Spike than just care for his clothing and keep the residence clean. It seemed more personal somehow to fix real food, not just warm up some blood or make sure that the new member of the stable was clean and sober. He hummed a bit as he put out pork and vegetables. He was going to fix a stir-fry; with everything ready, he could cook on a moments notice. The rice would hold in the cooker for several hours. He doubted it would be done before Xander woke hungry and woke Spike up, too.

He'd spent years, decades even, doing nothing but hiding bodies and putting out clothing. It was more than boring. Now he had two bright young things to train and take care of. Spike wasn't easy to manage, but he could do it when it was really necessary. Xander on the other hand didn't need managing; he was open to suggestion and ready to listen. Timmins smiled again. Yes, life, unlife, what ever you called it, was very good.

He heard foot steps in the bathroom and put on the rice. His masters would be in very soon. They were going to be hungry and impatient. He started chopping onions, adding the chopped bits to the already prepared stuff. He paused to listen to the shower; it was running full blast, and he could hear Xander yelling at Spike for using all the towels. He could also hear Spike laughing and the rustle of towels being tossed. He turned on the kettle for the tea.

It was only a few minutes until both Spike and Xander wandered into the room. They flopped into chairs and gave Timmins identical hungry looks. He just put tea in front of both of them and turned to check on the rice.

It was done enough that he could start the stir fry and have the rice come out ready at the same time. He listened to Spike explain what he wanted for court while he cooked the meat for the stir fry.

Xander finished his tea and poured himself another cup. He checked the pot then added more water to it. Timmins nodded to show that he had seen this. Xander grinned at him and reached around him to try to snatch a bit of carrot. Timmins smacked him on the hand.

"Ow! Evil man." Xander gave Timmins his best pout.

"I'll ride to town on that lip. Hands off the food. The stir fry will be done in just a few minutes."

Spike laughed softly. "Guess he told you, pet. Come sit down."

Xander sighed dramatically. "Damn. And here I was with a taste for carrot."

Spike rolled his eyes. 'You know that pout doesn't work on me."

"Much. Don't fool me a bit, you." Xander poured Spike another cup of tea and put the pot aside.

Timmins smiled at the teasing. His boys were doing well. He was happy.

"Here. It's done. I'll put it in bowls with chopsticks?" They both nodded and leaned back so that Timmins could put the bowls in front of them.

Spike tasted the ginger pork and vegetables; it was spicy without being aggressive; the pork was just done and the vegetables were crisp-tender and perfect. "Mmmm, great. Timmins, you're a real treasure."

Xander just nodded, he was too busy stuffing his face to talk; besides, Timmins had rules about table manners, and he might take away dessert.

Spike grinned at Xander; this punishment was turning out to not be so bad. "Xander? I really think I need to know where this is going. I'm all off balance; not that I'm not enjoying this, but...."

Xander pulled Spike out of his chair and onto his lap. "Ok, here's the deal. I'm treating you the way I want to be treated. You have some of the worst examples I've ever heard of." He pouted slightly. "I still don't see why you won't let me stake Angel, or at least annoy him to death. You need really good role models to follow. Not that I'm an expert, but you get the drift?"

Spike pressed his forehead to Xander's. "Yeah, I get the drift. Completely. Here's my say. You're now my Companion; the blood exchanges have already completed the process."

Xander didn't even flinch; he was much smarter than anybody gave him credit for and had already figured out what Spike was up to. "Ok. But that means you're my Companion, too, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. Mad?"

"Crazy mad, for you. More tea?" And just like that, the one thing Spike thought would send Xander into a tail spin was said and done with.

He accepted the tea and cake and returned to his seat, congratulating himself on dodging that bullet.

They were just finished with their meal when a high level minion stuck his head around the door, looking a bit puzzled at finding the two masters eating in a kitchen. "Excuse me. There's some trouble in one of the casinos; they want the Master of Vegas to come sort it out."

Xander sighed and pushed away from the table. "How bad is it?"

"It's not bad, as in, no fight. But they would appreciate you getting there within the hour."

"Ok. Timmins, set me out a suit. Something impressive, expensive, and... not too flashy."

"Yes, sir. At once."

Xander nodded. "I'll be picking out weapons. Spike? Advice?"

"Gun, big. Knife, easily hidden, where you can get to it quick. Bigger knife, also easy to get to. No sword. Maybe some pins, or something like that."

"Thanks. I'll be ready in twenty minutes."

The minion gulped; the sweetly smiling boy had just turned into something very scary. He nodded to the Master Vampires and the Master of Las Vegas and got out, going to wait by the door.

Xander went into the small armory they kept in one of the unused bedrooms and picked his weapons. He liked a common Taurus 9mm with a seventeen shot magazine. He inserted one and pulled back the slide, chambering a round then flicked the safety on. He also picked a simple chest harness and attached a sheath for his larger knife on the side opposite of the holster. He found a set of throwing pins and an arm band to hold them. He rechecked his choices and satisfied, he went to see what suit Timmins had chosen for him.

Timmins had chosen a Botany 500 suit of simple cut with a slightly nipped-waist jacket. This cut made it easy to hide a shoulder harness; and he remembered being measured for harness in Sunnydale. Timmins was always ordering him new suits; he assumed the same measurements were used for the suits and other garments that had appeared in his closet. The dark chocolate brown suit looked good combined with the soft soled shoes and bronze tie. His shirt was a lighter shade of brown linen and fit properly across his shoulders.

By the time Timmins was done fussing, he looked impressive, masculine, imperious, and ready for anything. Timmins brushed off his shoulders, straightened his tie, and told him, "You are now perfect. Don't mess with anything. Straightening your tie is a sign of discomfort or unease, don't do it. If it's crooked, just leave it. Now, go."

Xander walked out the door, through the living area, and motioned to the minion to go first. "How far is it?"

"Just down the block. About five minutes walk. Master Spike told me to tell you that he was going out. I think he wants to be there without anyone else knowing."

"I'm sure you're right. Don't look for him when we get there. You won't find him, and it'll clue the trouble makers in that I have back up. When we get there, introduce me to whoever I need to know then get lost."

The minion shivered in relief. "Yes, master, thank you."

.

Xander eyed the small, grey-skinned demon for a moment. "So, you're telling me that you have a problem with humans that know about us coming in and tearing up the place, and you can't do anything about it? Why not?" He wasn't going to lose his temper with this demon. He was some sort of prince or something. The introduction he'd gotten was less than good. "And explain to me again who you are exactly. Minions don't do introductions well."

"Ah, no wonder you're confused. I am Prince Luspras of the Emrom. We are peaceful types, merchants and providers. We don't do well with violence. We have a contract with the Master of Las Vegas, whomever he is, to take care of things like this, especially with humans. Please."

Xander nodded. "I see. So, you want me to make them go away? Or do they owe you money?"

"Both. We have the money. That's the problem; they want it back. They claim we cheated them." He managed to look indignant and a bit angry without actually changing expression. "We don't cheat. We don't need to. Too many fools are ready to throw money our way without the work of cheating."

Xander nodded. "Ok, didn't think you were cheating, but it's nice to hear. So... I'll just go down and see about things. Um... how much damage are you willing to put up with?"

"As much as it takes. Our reputation for handling our problems has suffered enough. I don't care if you kill them, just get our peace back."

Xander nodded. He didn't wonder why he was doing this instead of hired muscle; he was well aware that it was a test.

Xander watched for a little while as the humans just made pests of themselves, taking drinks off the hostesses' trays, pushing people around, and generally acting like punks.

He walked out of the observation room and into the casino proper. He looked around for a moment and realized that most of the demons in the room were peaceful sorts. The few who were not, the punks were avoiding very carefully; in fact, one actually gave a drink to a frowning, horned demon. Xander didn't recognize his kind.

After checking for exits and impediments to free movement, Xander decided that the best place to confront the group was in the blackjack pits. This casino had all the tables arranged around a large open space where the pit bosses and a few others stood or walked around, keeping an eye on the various games. It was perfect as the group insisted on jumping the velvet ropes and crossing the room through that customer forbidden area.

Xander went to the floor walker and told him to close down the tables. The demon didn't argue; he knew who Xander was. He just told the pit bosses to close the tables. There was a bit of grumbling, but not as much as Xander expected. All the gamblers just got up and walked away, gathering their chips and dispersing.

Xander watched the punks for a while more, waiting for them to notice that the blackjack tables were empty. He had to laugh when they did. The looks on their faces was one of total blank puzzlement. He wondered if they had enough brains to understand what was going on.

The group of punks jumped the velvet rope and started through the pit. Xander stepped into their way and just stood there. The inevitable happened; they got into Xander's face.

"Hey! Move! You're blockin' the way."

Xander stood fast and just looked at the man. Another of the men changed direction and tried to back his buddy up. This put Xander, at 6'2" and not quite 260 lbs facing two men of 6' plus and around his same weight. The mismatch wasn't as obvious as it should have been.

One of the men took an amateurish swing at Xander. Xander caught his fist in one hand.

"You really shouldn't have done that." The sound of the man's hand breaking couldn't be heard beyond a few feet away unless you were some sort of demon, but his scream of pain was heard all over the room.

The other man leapt to his companion's aid, only to find himself sailing across the velvet rope. He landed in the clear area between the rope and some slot machines. He didn't get up again.

This caused a bit of a disturbance in the watching crowd; a large demon jumped over the rope and charged Xander. Xander sighed slightly; trust some idiot to just want in on the fight. The demon met Xander's number nine, actually about a size 10 ½ , square on, right in the face. He bellowed and fell back a step. Xander followed up with a couple of quick jabs to the ribs and an uppercut left that lifted the demon off his feet and dumped him on his butt. There was polite applause from the crowd. Xander looked for his next opponent.

It didn't take long for the next one to throw himself into the fight, and all of two seconds for him to have a broken arm. Xander just grabbed him by the fist he'd swung and twisted sharply. The loud snap and scream didn't even make him blink.

Xander looked around for his next opponent and found that he was alone in the pit. The other punks had run out on their companions and disappeared. There was more polite patter, and it was all over.

Xander nodded to the pit boss who opened the tables again. Xander was proud that he hadn't made much mess. He straightened his tie, even though Timmins had told him not to. He wasn't going to go around with the knot that far off center.

The owner, Prince Luspras, approached him bowing gracefully. "Thank you so much for handling this in such a timely manner."

"You're welcome. But the next time you call me to handle something that your security could do, I'm not going to be pleased. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes. But this is going to comfort many people. People who've felt... abandoned by their rulers. You do see my point?"

Xander thought about that for a moment then nodded. "I do. But I do not do well in tests. Remember that. And there is the old human tale of the boy who cried wolf. Yes?"

"Ah." The demon nodded, smiling slightly. "There is that. Would you care for a drink before you go?"

Xander shook his head. "No, I'm not of age yet."

One of the servers approached with a tray on which was an assortment of drinks, alcoholic and non; Xander took a glass of iced tea and sipped at it.

"If you will come this way. I'll show you out by the underground. And, again, thank you for coming so quickly. My people will offer tribute as usual."

Xander nodded. "That's good." Xander gave the prince a bland look that didn't fool him for a second. "Nice that I don't have to come back. Here, and thanks for the drink." Xander handed the prince his glass and walked into the tunnel that led back home.

.

Xander entered the residence from the side door and went to his gardens; he needed to walk in the soothing, blooming place. He didn't mind fighting; he'd been fighting all his life, one way or another. What bothered him was that it was just so stupid this time. The human men were bullies and idiots, not worthy of his time. And he hated being tested.

"Oi, pet. You have a scowl on your face that'll wilt the flowers. What's up?"

"It was a test. I don't like tests at the best of times; this was really annoying. So. I've got a meeting with Giles and Tom, soon. I better go get changed, then I have to meet Yakov. I hate wasting my time on stuff like this. Hug?"

Spike wrapped Xander in his arms and nuzzled into his hair. "Sorry about that, pet, but best over as soon as possible. Now they know that you'll come if they really need you. Trust you made a show of it?"

"No, I'm not showy like you are. I just handled business and came home. I want to walk." Xander just started off; Spike let go of him and walked beside him.

"Ok, are we going anywhere special or just wandering?"

"Just wandering. I wonder if I could... this harness doesn't fit quite right. It's binding me under my left arm. I think I'll send it back and have it reworked." Xander jumped when a minion appeared like magic from somewhere and held out a hand for the harness. Xander stripped off his jacket and the harness, handed the harness to the minion, and put his jacket back on. "Take that to Timmins and tell him that it chafes me. Have him send it back and get it adjusted. And be very polite to him; if I hear that you've snubbed him or anything, I'll stake you. Got me?"

The minion nodded, glancing at Spike. Spike just shrugged. "He'll just stake you. I'll make you beg for it. Go." The minion scurried off.

They walked for a while more then Xander sighed. "I better get back. I've got that meeting with my tutors and then Yakov. No sense putting it off."

"Put it off if you want. You're my Companion; if you don't want to, don't."

"I don't, but I want to learn, so I gotta. I better get going before I do chicken out. See you. Kiss." Spike answered that demand with pleasure and kissed Xander until he had to draw back to breathe.

.

Giles looked up when Xander entered the room in a suit.

"I think I'm late. I had a little something to take care of all of a sudden." Xander sat down at the head of the table and waited.

Tom fussed with some papers for a bit then sighed. "I'm not sure how much you understand about your condition so I'm going to start from the beginning; if you know this, we'll go on."

Xander sighed. "I have no idea what the hell the problem is. I was tested in Sunnydale, and the counselor told my parents that I was slow. Not an idiot, but near. He also told them that I just didn't apply myself. That I could do the work, if I'd just pay attention. I'm the 'runs with scissors' boy."

Giles just sighed. "I read his permanent record, and I must say, I've never read a more depressing document in all my days. They gave up on him before he had a chance. His tests were done in...." Giles consulted a file, "third grade and followed him like a curse. I'm not impressed. So... Mr. Dalton, what do you recommend?"

"Tutoring. Reading and writing. Math. His language skills are... excellent. Understatement there. It's a simple matter of retraining." He held up a hand. "I said simple, not easy. It's mostly going to be drill. But you'll see results equal to effort. I promise. We set up a schedule that will allow you to do everything you need to do. It's very near the preliminary one you left with your secretary. I understand that you're going to be training with Mr. Ptomkin?" Xander nodded. "We have allowed plenty of time for that." He slid the sheet of paper over the table to Xander.

Xander took his time looking over the paper carefully. "Ok, there's no conflict that I can see. You've left time for everything. And time for me to do nothing. Very good. Are we going to start on Monday?"

"Yes, Mr. Giles and I both thought that it would be a good idea. That gives you time to consult with Mr. Ptomkin."

"Ok, and Yakov is going to take up a bunch more time than you think. And Sefu Bruce needs time with me, too. I'm not going to skimp on training. Giles, you know better than most how important that is. Don't over load me with homework; I really don't have time for it. And don't forget, Spike has first call on my time; he yells, I come."

Giles nodded. "Of course. But you won't be having much homework. The thing that will help you the most is drill work. We'll be doing a lot of that. And you need several pair of glasses. I've made arrangements for you to have your eyes examined and proper glasses made, if that meets your approval. It won't take long."

Xander nodded. "These glasses help a lot. I don't have time to go to an optometrist until next week. We might take my first class period to do that."

Tom nodded. "That will be acceptable. I've got all the books we need and all the materials, too. So all we have to do is get started. Monday will be good. Start a schedule on a Monday, and it usually works out. So, questions?"

Xander thought for a moment. "No, not yet. Giles, anything?"

"Not really. Do you have a preference for the next tune you want to learn?"

Xander grinned. "Malaguena."

"That's very difficult, but if you're sure?" Giles smiled.

"I'm sure I want to try. If that's all?" Tom nodded, as did Giles. "Then, I better go change and see what torture Yakov has planned for me."

.

Xander changed quickly and headed for the dojo. He was really anxious to take up his training again. He knew he was just going to make it, if he ran. Minions and fledges pressed themselves to the walls as he charged by. No one wanted to get in his way; they were all afraid that he'd just run them down, and they were right.

"Sir, I'm sorry I was nearly late. I had a few too many things to take care of." Xander panted.

"Well, I heard about the fight in the casino. I got the tapes. I'll go over them later and give you a critique. Now, I want you to show me what you remember."

Xander nodded and went to the middle of the mat. He didn't have to wait long; the attack came almost immediately. He ducked the punch and rolled the man over his shoulder and almost off the mat. Yakov frowned. The next man got a kick in the solar plexus that left him gasping. Xander whirled and punched the last man, knocking him off his feet. Yakov just smiled a bit.

"Ok, good, good. You haven't forgotten anything. I'm pleased. Next we learn knife fighting."

Xander just shrugged his gi into place again and settled himself, squaring his stance and grounding himself.

Yakov went to the rack and picked up a dummy knife. It looked like a real knife, but it left a blue line instead of a cut. It could bruise or raise a welt, but it couldn't cut.

"Treat this like a real knife at all times. I don't want you developing bad habits. Your opponents will all be demons or fledges with enough brains not to hurt you too badly. Do not expect me to coddle you anymore. You've had enough rest; now you're going to learn everything I can teach and learn it well. Any questions?"

Xander thought for a moment. "No, none yet. I reserve the right to ask questions."

Yakov grinned. "Good, good. And you're going to keep working with Bruce, I take it?"

Xander nodded. "Yes, I like working with both of you. I like the challenge. But I do have to be a bit careful of my hands. Woodworking, writing, playing guitar; they all take whole hands."

"Yes, I remember. I'm not senile yet."

Yakov showed Xander moves, both attack and defense, and Xander practiced them. They wound up working for over two hours. When they stopped they turned to find Spike, Master Bruce, Bud, and Giles watching them. Xander sighed; this meant that he wasn't going to get back to the office anytime soon then he realized that it didn't really matter. He was the boss and he could come in anytime he wanted, or not at all. He settled on a zafu with his water and waited for the critique to start. This was going to be good.


	33. Chapter 33

Xander painted quickly, but carefully. He loved the feel of paint flowing off his brush, and now that he knew that he could do more than cover work, he really enjoyed watching something take shape. He had drawn the symbols on with a carpenter's pencil, and now all he had to do was fill in the shapes. It didn't seem more difficult than that to him. Then a little bit of stippling and some detail work, and all done. He smiled at the Horus eye he was working on.

"Eh, pet, what are you doing?" Spike walked up behind Xander. He'd seen Xander and waited until he was wiping a brush before he said anything. He didn't want to startle Xander and make him ruin his work.

"You know exactly what I'm doing. I'm making that hack look like... well, a hack. He swore to me that he had translated the text himself, but he didn't. He just copied stuff. This" Xander pointed to a cartouche. "is from one era, and that" he pointed to another "is from another. But he's used them in a mural together, as if they were from the same time frame. And this one is a real gem," he pointed to another. "Beautiful work, really nice." He smirked at Spike. "It's in English."

Spike sputtered. "I thought you had all the mistakes painted over. And that's English? How do you... um... never mind."

Xander grinned at Spike's acknowledgement of his expertise. "Well, I missed those and a couple of others. I took a photograph so I can work on fixing them up. And how do I know it's English? Because Hieroglyphics are phonetic. I bet he just went online and used one of several translation tools to translate some fairly bad English poetry into hieroglyphics, without thinking about the fact that they just change letters into phony hieroglyphics. There's actually one program that is named 'named 'Write Like an Egyptian'. Cute, but that's about all."

Spike glanced at Xander then laughed. Xander had a smudge of bright blue paint on his forehead and another of red on his nose.

Xander looked confused for a second then laughed, too. "Ok, how much paint do I have on my face?"

"Not much. Here, give me that." Spike took the chemical impregnated towel from Xander and swiped at the paint. "I'll do it. You'll just muck it up."

Xander held still while Spike cleaned off the paint.

"Want to talk to you." Xander just grunted, poked at the drying paint to test how dry it was, then started putting paint away. "You listening?"

"Yeah. I just want to put this all away before it skins."

"Ok. Listen, you need to do something with your court. They're all out of hand, coming to my court, and in general being a nuisance."

"Sorry. I'll kill someone tonight; that should hold the trouble makers for a while. But seriously, I'm so busy doing all the things that you want me to, and what I want to, that I don't have time for their complaints. What should I do?"

Spike sighed; he'd been afraid of this. Xander was his Consort and Companion, but the new sort of vampires they'd found in Vegas didn't seem to understand or care. "Hammer it through their heads that you're my second, no matter if you're human or not. Make it a point to explain that, if I have to come in and take over, they're not going to like it."

"Well, it would help if you hadn't taken all the smart ones for yourself. All I have are a bunch of idiots. I'm taking care of things I ought to be able to delegate to _my_ seconds, which I don't actually have."

Spike felt a bit of guilt; he hadn't thought of that when he'd stripped Xander's court of anything with a brain. "Well, shit. Sorry, pet, but it's too late to return them. They've all sworn fealty to me. Let me think about it."

Xander just shrugged. "Ok, but I'm warning you. I don't have time to deal with all the petty shit and keep Las Vegas in line, too. It's a kind of an either/or situation. Frankly, my court is a bit of a joke, no matter how you look at it. I've got about 30 vamps, all of them newbies and low level minions, not even a fledge in the bunch. There's a few demons that have attached themselves just to be able to say they belong to The Master of Vegas."

Spike rubbed his face and sighed. "Sorry, pet."

"I'm too weak to deal with it."

"Oi! Not weak. You didn't see our leathers, did you?"

Xander looked puzzled, "Leathers?"

"You tore our leathers off last night."

Xander looked a bit embarrassed. "OH! Sorry. But... how?"

"You've been getting about an ounce and a half of my blood every day. I've been drinking from you as well. That's more than enough to make you not only my Companion, but a Claimed as well."

Xander blinked. "Claimed? I'm just..." He made a funny sort of 'oomph' sound as Spike flattened two fingers over his lips.

"Not a thrall anymore. You've gotten way above that now. Get used to it."

"Hmm. Ok. Does that mean I'm not a pet either?"

"Yeah, it does. Why?"

Xander smirked at Spike. "Then you have to quite calling me that. They hear you call me 'pet' and they think you mean it for real."

Neither one of them had to clarify who "they" were. Spike sighed, "Ok, I'll quit it. Don't have to like it, but I will."

Xander pulled Spike into his arms and kissed him until he was panting. And making an unbreathing vampire pant was something.

"So, I'm strong, am I? What else am I?"

Spike had to laugh a bit. "Handsome, smart, funny, loyal, mine. That enough?"

Xander laughed softly. "Didn't say anything about ruthless, murderous, or impressive."

"No, that's me."

Xander made Spike think again. "If I'm a Claimed instead of a Thrall, I have responsibilities. Taking care of you is one of them. I take my responsibilities seriously. Understand?" Spike admitted that he did, so Xander kissed him silly, not that Spike minded.

Xander finally drew back with a sigh. "I have to go. I've got training with Master Bruce then a class with Tom."

"That's going to be fun."

Xander managed to look both scornful and miserable. "Not. I'll just ..."

Spike nudged Xander in the ribs. "Think positively... and none of that shite about 'I'm positive I'll fail.' Got me?"

Xander nodded. "I do. Ok, I'll really give it a chance. Is Giles going to be there? Tom said something about both of them having at me."

"Don't know. When's your eye exam?"

Xander grunted as he lifted the box of paints and brushes. "Don't know. That's what I've got Syl for. Here, it's not heavy, just awkward."

Spike yelled indignantly after Xander as he suddenly trotted away. "Oi! And what the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

He didn't get an answer from Xander, but Timmins came out of a hidden side door and took the stuff from him. "I'll take that. I'll just put it right here where he can find it when he wants it. I was just coming to tell him to go to the dojo and then his tutoring session. Do you think he'll do well?"

Spike glanced at Timmins, saw the fond look on his face, and shrugged. "Probably. He needs some encouragement, a few successes. If he gets that, he'll do well."

"I'll remember that."

.

Xander nodded to Master Bruce, took off his shoes, then bowed properly. "Sir."

"Well, go change." The master was smiling a bit. This was going to be good. Xander was stronger and faster than any non-vampire student he'd ever had. He was actually looking forward to this.

Xander obeyed and came back in his Aikido hakima and gi. "I'm ready. What are we going to study today?"

"Ryu Tsui Sen."

Xander blinked then gulped. This was the penultimate attack of his school. "Ok. I'm ready."

"Good."

Master Bruce started Xander out with a review of every cut he knew then went on to the defenses. They worked for three hours then Xander called a halt to the workout, exclaiming, "Damn! I'm gonna be late for my tutoring session if I don't leave right now. I'm sorry, master, but I have to go."

Master Bruce nodded his permission, took Xander's sword, and sent him on his way.

Spike stepped out of the niche that he had slipped into half way through the workout. "He did well?"

"Yes, Master Spike, very well. He even has enough presence of mind to feel the passing of time. He realized he was going to be late at the same time I did. He's exceptional."

"Not much gets past him."

"Very true. But if you take my advice, he's not the sort to hold court. He's a protector, an enforcer, not a governor. If you understand my meaning. And holding court is making him unhappy."

Spike considered this advice carefully. "I'll sneak in on his court. If it's that bunch of newbies doing it, I'll gut someone."

Master Bruce thought about that for a moment. "I don't think that's so. They are out of control, but if young Xander had the right mind set, there wouldn't have been trouble from the start."

Spike just gave a snarl and stalked out. Master Bruce gazed after him for a moment, chuckled, and went to clean and store the swords.

.

Xander made it to his room, into the shower, and through to clean clothing in record time. Timmins gave his shirt one last tug then handed him something.

Xander looked at the stick-like thing in his hand and smiled; it was an old-fashioned pen holder. Without its nib, it looked like any old stick, but he knew that it was an antique.

"This is really old, you sure?"

Timmins nodded. "One of my masters gave it to me when he decided that I needed to learn to read and write. I'd be honored if you'd accept it."

Xander fingered the small thing then tucked it into his shirt pocket. "I'm honored that you'd think me worthy of it. I'm going to put it in my desk after my class. I better run or I'll be late and I don't want to start out on the wrong foot. Bye."

Xander hurried through the corridors, noticing that everyone pressed themselves against the walls to stay out of his way. He noticed, and thought Spike was the reason.

"Hi, I'm here. Ready to learn and all that."

Tom just pointed to a large table and told Xander to take a seat at the head of it. Xander settled in place and looked around. There was a free standing white board about four feet from the end of the table which was stacked with books. There was one seat at each side of the table, and Xander noticed that both places had papers and other implements of learning scattered around, as well as cups of tea.

Um... is there tea for me, too?"

Giles poured a cup from the tea set on a side table and pushed it across to Xander with a slight smile.

Xander took his tea and sipped it while Giles talked. He found out that today was just an overview, a chance for him to find out what they were going to be doing. He took his glasses out of the case on his belt and put them on. Giles nodded in satisfaction and Tom held out one hand. Giles handed him a quarter and they got down to business.

Xander observed the pass with some amusement then announced, "As Master of Vegas, I get one percent of any gambling done in Undertown, so watch it."

Tom laughed while Giles's gobsmacked expression made Xander smirk.

They turned to their tutoring, and Xander found that, while Giles was well informed, Tom was phenomenal; he seemed to have an instinctive feel for exactly how to explain things to Xander. He set Xander examples which Giles had written up, and Xander worked his way through them. They made more progress in that two hour session than Xander had made in four years of high school.

Giles finally leaned back in his chair, finished his third cup of tea, and announced, "Well, I'm highly satisfied with this session. I don't know that we need as many sessions as we originally thought. Tom?"

"I think I was right. Xander is going to have to do a lot of grunt work, but he has the knowledge, just not the experience. His comparative perceptions are off. The glasses will help, but... it's hard to explain in words, but it's like seeing something new. His brain will have to be trained to recognize letters again."

Xander sighed. "That won't be that hard, now that they don't change shapes on me every time I look at them." He held up a hand. "That's the way it seems to me. I know they don't, but they look like they do. That's what the glasses are meant to help me with. They make the letters stay still. So what's the program?"

"We explained that you are going to have a lot of rote work to do. Copying things, drawing shapes, that sort of thing." Tom pointed to a ring binder that he and Giles had already made up. "That's your work book . You'll be copying things out of it. And reading comprehension. I have a list of books here; read one from column A, one from column B, and two from column C. Then you do book reports on them. And Cliff Notes won't work. I ask questions that aren't in them. That's the other thing. I'll have a list of questions on each book you choose; the answers to at least 16 out of 20 have to be in the report. And no, I'm not going to tell you the questions."

Xander sighed. "Ok, as long as Catterbury Tails isn't required. I didn't care for that the first time around. Ye Middle Englishe isn't my bag."

Giles laughed. "It's Canterbury Tales, and I really think you'd like some parts. The best ones don't show up in books meant for high schoolers. But that's for another day."

Xander examined the workbook with a scowl; it was fairly thick, and he grumbled a bit at the fact that every page was covered with text. "How long do I have to do all this?"

"As long as you need; as long as you are actually working on it every day. And we'll go over everything you've done each afternoon before we go on. It's not as much work as it looks like. You're only supposed to copy each page once; it's the variety that's going to help, along with repetition. Anything you have trouble with, you'll copy several times. We'll know that we're getting somewhere when you can just look at a page and read it instead of having to study it."

Xander's expression brightened. "Oh, you mean when I can read English like I can kanji or Sumerian, or Fraktu. Ok."

Giles rubbed his face. "Damn it, you read Fraktu? So help me ..." He trailed off grimacing.

"Um... yeah? Not that big a deal. It's like shorthand. Syllabic based symbology. Simple, not easy."

Giles just started gathering up his things, grumbling about 'moronic Council members' and 'idiot' something Xander missed out on.

Xander thanked both Tom and Giles then went to his office, told Sylvia that he was available for the next three hours, to bring him something to eat, and started copying his homework. He worked on one page at a time, copying carefully, but worrying that he was just grinding the same old mistakes deeper into his nervous system. Then he had the idea of having Sylvia proof them.

He called her in and told her what he wanted and she said that she was willing, as long as it wasn't cheating. Xander thought about that for a second then just told her to connect him with Mr Giles. She scurried to do that and his phone soon rang.

"Giles?"

"Xander. What is it?"

It didn't take him long to explain his fear and his solution. "I see. That's very well thought out and a perfect solution. I'll explain to Sylvia exactly what is allowed and what is not."

"Explain to me, too. She's just loyal enough to me that she might think she's helping by letting something slide."

"Good, good. If you are copying something wrong, she's to point out the mistake and show you the correct way to do it. She is not to actually do the copying herself. Understand?"

"Yeah. Thanks. See you tomorrow. Good-bye."

Giles replied the same and hung up. Xander cradled his handset against his cheek for a second more then hung up, too.

He went back to his work, copying one page and having Sylvia check it over for him, then going on to the next. When he looked at his watch, a very expensive present from Spike, he realized that his three scheduled hours were up and that he was about a quarter of the way through the book.

"Sylvia, is there anything on the docket for today?"

"A couple of what Master Spike calls 'whiney shits', and one for real problem. What do you want to do? Shall I have them convene a court?"

Xander thought about that for a second. "No, just send them in here. I've got an idea. I'll have a combination of the old master's submit a complaint form and Spike's kill 'em before they get out of hand style. What do you think?"

Sylvia allowed that she had no thoughts on the matter at all and said that she might have to get a vacuum sweeper. She removed his lunch tray when she left.

.

Xander looked up from a translation about fifteen minutes after he'd given Sylvia the go-ahead. "Yes?"

"Um... I... well, you see, it's like this." The vampire paused a moment and gave Xander that arrogant, doubtful look that made Xander want to stake him.

"I don't have time to mess around with you, nor the patience to coax whatever is on your tiny mind out of your mouth. Get on with it."

"But... you're not even a vampire, what gives you the right to judge us?" The vampire was very young, both in true age and turned, his expression was one of mixed frustration and fury.

"In two words... Spike. Said. Now get on with this or I'll call in the next idiot and you can deal yourself."

This explanation seemed to soothe the boy's ire so he started in on a convoluted explanation of why the guy who had a TV shouldn't have one if he couldn't.

Xander held up a hand again. "Did he steal it from you?"

"Um... no."

"He got it for himself?"

"Yeah... but... but."

"Stop. If he acquired it for himself, pays for the hook up, and doesn't bother anyone by playing it too loud, there's nothing I'm going to do about it. Nor is anyone else. If you think otherwise, get over it."

"But there's no TV in the common room. Why should he have one when no one else does?"

Xander grimaced, now they were getting to the crux of the matter. "Why isn't there a TV in the common room now? There was one the last time I was there."

"Someone broke it." The vampire squirmed in his chair.

"Ah-ha! See, you need to go after whoever broke it. Make them replace it. If they're too high above you in rank, send them to me. Got me?"

A dawning look of comprehension and respect crossed the boys face then he nodded. "If someone was to sort of write a name on something and it kinda found its way into someone else's hand, what would you do?"

"Someone, whose name showed up on a paper, would be buying a new TV for the common room."

He shuffled his feet a bit. "What if they didn't have any money?"

"I'll take it out in trade. Of one kind or another. That all?"

"Um... yeah. Thanks, Boss." He shuffled out the door, mumbling to himself.

Xander sighed and realized that he actually had a second of sympathy for Principal Snyder, well, maybe a split second.

The other whiner turned out to be another of those 'he has, I want' sorts. Xander listened to him for a moment then sent him away with what Spike called a flea in his ear, a not so gentle lecture on the way the world was.

The third petitioner was a sour-faced woman who demanded to know who was going to clean up after some demon who made a nuisance of himself by trashing the common room on a regular basis, dropping beer cans and chip bags everywhere.

Xander handled this one more easily than anyone would have thought. "Can you whip him?"

"Excuse me, young... master?" She gave him a indignant look.

"Simple question, can you whip him? Doesn't seem complicated to me. Either yes, or no. And don't tell me fighting isn't lady-like, I don't care. Um... also, what did you do before you were turned? Just curious, you can politely tell me to MYOB."

The lady shifted uncomfortably in her seat for a moment. "I was a teacher. I taught calculus at a private school."

"I see. Well, go... teach that pig some manners. And you're in charge of the dorms from now on. If staking a few of the worst complainers doesn't do any good, come back to me."

She gave a self-satisfied little nod then asked, "Would you mind putting that in writing? I think that would help a lot." Xander just pulled a piece of his letterhead out of a drawer, put on his glasses, and carefully wrote the note. "That do?"

She looked at it, folded it carefully and tucked it into her purse. "I do believe so. And... you need to work on your penmanship; it's terrible."

Xander started laughing, and laughed her right out the door.

.

Several days went by in a whirl of activities. Xander took music lessons once a week from Giles and used that hour to practice the rest of the time. Once, Spike came to join him in the music room and play the clavichord along with Xander. He enjoyed that a great deal and promised Spike a surprise soon.

He worked out with both Yakov and Master Bruce, brutal workouts that left him panting and weary. He realized that he was learning more than anyone, especially he himself, could have thought. He basked in Master Bruce's approval while wondering how earning it continued to be possible.

The tutoring sessions went from daily to three times a week on the second day. That cut Xander enough slack time that he could do more woodworking than he originally had on his schedule, another pleasure.

And his gardens were coming along so well, all Xander had to do was point and express a wish, and he had it. It didn't hurt that he was as willing as ever to dive in and do it himself.

With all the things he had to do, Xander's days passed quickly.

But he hadn't forgotten his promise to Spike to give him a surprise. It arrived a bit later than Xander had expected, but the spells had taken longer than the witch had thought they would.

.

"Spike, come here." Xander's crooning tone of voice made Spike grin. "I have a little pressie for you."

"A pressie? For me? Oh, how nice." Spike went into Xander's arms happily. He had worried a bit about his promise, but Xander had never done anything that hurt or humiliated him and the sex was great. Xander had also proven that he had a kink, sex in unexpected places.

"I'm glad you think so. Drop your pants and bend over the desk; I don't want to hurt you."

Spike blinked for a second then laughed, dropped his jeans and bent over the desk. "You know that always confuses me a bit. Brits say, 'Drop trou.' or 'Trousers'. Pants are what you wear under trousers."

Xander laughed a bit. "If you wear them at all. Which you don't."

Spike felt Xander's fingers stroking and stretching him, just enough to open him a bit. "You going to fuck me over the desk, you kinky bastard?" He grinned over his shoulder at Xander.

"No. By the time I'm done with you, you'll wish I would. Now. I'm going to put this in you and you can't let on it's there. If you do, no sex. Got me?" As he spoke Xander eased something into Spike.

"Ok. No letting on that something's up there, or that anything is out of the ordinary. Got it. If I'm good, you going to see to me proper?"

"Yes, I'll see to you good and proper. And stop that."

Spike gave Xander a puzzled glance. "Stop what?"

"Making me speak all British and stuffy. Prat."

Spike fell onto the desk top, laughing like a loon. He didn't think much about the egg shaped object lodged in him, the small stem that kept it from slipping all the way in him wasn't even noticeable.

.

Spike was sitting at his desk, reading a contract, when the egg activated for the first time. It started out as a gentle vibration which made Spike smirk. The stem swelled just a bit as well, making Spike aware that it was there. He went back to his contract with a small smile on his face.

Then next time the egg activated, Spike was walking down a corridor on the way to the gardens. It buzzed a bit harder, and the stem swelled just a bit more. Spike didn't break stride although his smirk appeared again.

Xander was working in his shop, carefully crafting an inlay for a table top. He put aside his tools when Spike said he wanted to talk to him.

"Ok, what's up?"

Spike just grinned. "I just wanted to tell you I like my pressie."

Xander stood up and sauntered over to Spike. "Good. I'm glad you like it. You might not in a while. Depends on how good you are at denial."

"Not just a river in Egypt. I'm fair at it. Depends on how good the reward is."

Xander just grinned, an evil, sparkly-eyed thing that made Spike laugh out loud. "I'm thinking you're practicing to be a big bad yourself."

"No, I'm just a little bad." Xander kissed Spike hard enough that he tasted blood then went back to his inlay.

Spike was going to say more, but the egg activated again, vibrating against his prostate with a thrumming feeling that made him suppress a jump. The stem swelled noticeably this time.

He was prevented from noticing Xander's pleased smirk by a knock on the door frame.

"Excuse me. Can I come in?" The vampire was a young looking Hispanic who introduced himself as Jesus Gonzales.

Xander told him to come in a find a place to sit. Spike stayed long enough to find out that Jesus wanted to talk to Xander then left, adjusting his tight jeans as he went.

Xander just turned to talk to Jesus.

As the day went on the activations became stronger then started switching between a roaring vibration and thick stem that left Spike clenching his fists and shuddering to a gentle buzz that he barely felt. By the time he came in for supper, he was nearly insane with need and could hardly hide what was going on.

Xander sat down to supper with a bland expression on his face. Spike tried to match it, but failed; all he could do was gaze pleadingly at Xander. He knew better than to ask.

"If you're really good, I'll be happy to help you with your little problem."

Spike squirmed a bit then snarled, "It's not a little problem. Damn it, you're evil, pet."

"And you enjoy it, don't you?" Xander raised an eye brow at Spike's suddenly coy glance.

"Yeah, I do. But this thing is fiendish; it's all I can do not to... break the rules." The egg went off, and it really was all Spike could do not to do something he shouldn't. "Damn it!"

Xander took pity on Spike and jerked his head. "Bedroom, now."

Spike never noticed Timmins standing in the kitchen, laughing his head off.

Xander followed Spike into the bedroom and caught him around the waist as soon as he kicked the door shut.

"On the bed, now. On your knees and spread 'em."

Spike stripped off his clothing without being told, dropping everything in a trail from the door on over. He positioned himself as he was ordered to and waited. He didn't wait long.

Xander had been stripping along with Spike and climbed onto the bed behind him. "You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." Spike relaxed, thinking Xander was going to remove the egg; he didn't. Instead it roared into life and Spike nearly fell onto his face. Xander wrapped one arm around his waist and held onto him to keep him from going down flat. Spike moaned softly then vamped.

That was what Xander had been waiting for, and when Spike was in full vampire form, he pulled the egg out and slid into Spike. The egg had provided a thin film of constant lubrication to avoid irritating delicate tissues, and as Xander pulled it, he signaled it to let out a gush of lube. He tossed the egg over his shoulder and rammed into Spike completely, burying himself in one stroke.

Spike yelled out and surged backwards. Xander quickly established a punishing rhythm that ratcheted Spike toward ecstasy at once. They rocked on the bed, their furious rhythm causing the headboard to slam against the wall, shaking a picture off its mounting.

Xander let all his weight settle onto Spike, trusting him to maintain their rhythm, and reached under Spike to grasp his cock and strip a violent orgasm from him. His own was only a second later.

"Oh, my god." Xander rolled over and flopped off Spike. "I'm dead."

"I'm undead, pleased ta meetcha." Spike panted for a few seconds as Xander stifled his laughter. "Go ahead an' laugh. Evil, you're evil, that's what you are."

"Told you, I'm studying to be the Little Bad. I nearly didn't make it. I thought I'd explode before noon."

Spike rolled his eyes to look at Xander out of the corners. "What are you on about?"

Xander sighed, and rolled to one side to present his back to Spike. "Get that out of me will you?"

That was when Spike realized that Xander was wearing an identical egg.

.

The next morning Xander got up and wandered into the bathroom, the only thing on his mind, brushing his teeth.

He finished up his business and washed his hands. As he was drying them, he felt cool arms encircle him.

"Mornin', love. You awake?"

Xander just went, "Mmmmm?" and snuggled back against Spike.

"That was brilliant. What do you have planned next?"

Xander rubbed his stubbled cheek against Spike's. "Nothing. Yesterday was Day 30."

Spike actually looked disappointed. "You sure?"

Xander nodded, gazing at his lonely reflection in the mirror. "Yeah, I had Sylvia keep track."

"Damn."

Xander shrugged, eyes twinkling in the mirror. "That just means the ball's in your court again. Maybe we should reinstate the shows?"

Spike started to shake his head then realized that Xander couldn't see him. He turned Xander around and smiled at him. "Ok, no more shows. You're too high up on the ladder for that shit now. Unless you want to make the shows martial arts exhibitions."

Xander thought about that for a moment. "Not a bad idea. The court needs to know what I can do. And what I will do."

"I'll think of something for... Friday?" Spike made the last word a question.

Xander mentally reviewed his schedule then nodded. "Fine. What shall I do?"

"Talk to Master Bruce about that. I have no idea what would make a good show." Spike gave Xander a quick kiss and left him to his ablutions.

.

Xander got through breakfast just in time to be called to Spike's office. He sent a fledge to tell Master Bruce and Yakov that he was going to be late, then hurried to Spike's office to see what the problem was.

"Xander, take a look at this." Spike handed Xander a letter.

Xander read it and shrugged. "Not that much of a problem, is it? Angel wants _us _to meet a representative of a new government agency. Trust issues?" He snorted softly." And he says right here that the agent knows that he's out on a limb; we'll kill him if we can't reach an agreement. I think we might have to move headquarters if we don't reach that agreement, but other than that, I don't really see a problem. Throwaway agents, though, that does bother me some."

Spike rubbed his face then sat down on the edge of his desk. "That's what bothers me about this letter, the fact that this agency thinks that sacrificing a man isn't a big thing. What's to say that they won't decide that sacrificing all of us isn't a good idea? See?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, this whole thing makes me really nervous. So, what do you want to do?"

"Not really sure; first thing we do is meet this guy and see how he feels."

"Ok. Good so far, but what do we do if he feels off?"

"Thinking about that one." Spike frowned in thought and Xander stayed quiet, doing some thinking of his own.

Xander had a few thoughts of his own like, if Angel trusted this guy, it was possible that he was truly trustworthy. Angel wouldn't do anything to truly hurt either one of them; even if Xander didn't like Angel, he did trust him, mostly.

He began in a thoughtful voice, "I think we need to... we can't kill this guy, no matter what. It's not right, in a big ol' bad vibes way."

Spike pulled at his lower lip for a second. "You're right, on several levels. I establish myself as someone who will take care of... small fry, no matter who they belong to, and I really increase my face. If you know what I mean?"

Xander nodded, his martial arts had made him very aware of 'face' and its importance in politics, especially vampire politics. "I do. I think we just need to hear the guy out then decide what we mean to do if we can't reach an agreement with his people. I'm sure he has parameters within which he can bargain for whatever it is they want."

"Yes, but I'm inclined to refuse, just on general principles."

"Cut off nose to spite face, anyone?" Xander shook his head at Spike.

Spike's sour tone made Xander snicker when he snarled. "No, but I don't like dealing with people more heartless than I am. Now go see Master Bruce and Yakov while I draft my reply."

Xander hugged Spike, who returned the favor, then went out the door, shaking his head at Sylvia's raised eyebrow.


	34. Chapter 34

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: 34/?

Word count: 6923

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language,

Parings: Spike/Xander

Beta: aayesha_r (due to last minute rewriting, all remaining mistakes are mine.)

Xander talked to Master Bruce and Yakov. They both gave him the same advice, be armed to the teeth and go with his gut. It seemed that no one really knew who, or what, Angel was bringing with him.

So Xander dressed in leather pants, tank top, and a flowing coat that hid what Spike referred to as a multitude of sins. Mostly guns and knives, his sword, and a garrote thrown in for good measure.

He turned to Timmins and just said, "Tell Bud I want him. He's been a bit absent lately."

"Miss Tara had need of him. I have been taking his place."

Xander nodded. "Fine, but I need him. Tell Miss Tara that she's welcome to come to court anytime. You assign her someone."

"As you wish." Timmins gave Xander a small bow and left to carry out his orders. He was well pleased; his young master was turning out quite well.

Xander paced in the anteroom, swirling around his ankles as he turned. Bud watched him for a moment then announced his presence by snapping his fingers.

"Bud, haven't seen you in a while."

"Courting takes a bit of doing. You don't mind?"

"As long as Tara is happy, I'm happy."

Bud sighed. "I'd rather you called her Miss. I've kind of made a point of it. Hate to have to get into a fight with you about it."

Xander grinned at Bud. "Ok, Miss it is. She's special; see that you take good care of her. Shovel talk"

Bud raised his eyebrows, but declined to ask; he knew what Xander was getting at no matter how he put it. "I'll be good to her. She's got plenty of magic to protect herself with, but..." He shrugged.

Xander nodded, one short movement of his head. "Well, let's get this damn show on the road. Do you have any idea?"

Bud shook his head. "Nope. I think Master Spike is worried about this, though."

"Ok, on our toes, then. I just hope no one actually attacks him. I'm in a mood to kill and do it messy."

Bud blinked at that. Xander was on edge, and that wasn't conducive to someone's health.

Xander took a second to look Bud over. Not surprisingly, he was dressed much like Xander, except that he was wearing a red tank top instead of green.

"Well, you look half decent. Come on, let's go."

Bud followed Xander down the aisle that led from the door to the throne.

Xander made a graceful bow to Spike then went to stand on his right-hand side. Bud bowed, too, moving to stand beside Xander. Spike nodded to both of them when they bowed, but didn't do more.

Spike was sitting on his 'throne', a chair that he had designated as one. He liked the chair, it was comfortable. He had always snorted when anyone called it a throne. He was Master of California, he didn't need a throne.

"Let the petitioner enter." Spike waived his hand and sighed. Angel had turned California over to him, so he was now a petitioner. Angel. Spike wondered again what bloody damned mess he was bringing now.

"I'd like to bring someone before you. Someone you have no reason to trust, but I do. Just listen to him and make a decision based on what is best for all of us."

Spike glared at Angel for a moment then nodded. "I'll do as I think best. I'll hear him, and I won't kill him, even if I decide not to agree with his... people."

Angel relaxed visibly. "Thank you. I think that you'll find his offer more than interesting."

Spike didn't even turn a hair when Riley Finn moved out of the doorway and walked up to stand beside Angel. Xander didn't, either. He just drew his left-hand pistol and pointed it right between his eyes. Riley flinched then steadied himself.

"I don't trust you. Bud, search him. Bring me anything that isn't clothing." Xander's voice was stern, strong, and steady. Spike smirked at Angel. Bud obeyed.

He produced a wallet, a small pocket knife, a cell phone, a handful of coins, and a handkerchief. Xander held out a hand, "Cell." Bud obediently brought it to him. Xander holstered his gun and opened the phone. It didn't have a GPS, and he relaxed slightly.

Spike glanced at Xander; Xander nodded, "Let him speak. There's no way he could be traced here. Not unless he knows magic, which I don't believe he does."

A small, hesitant voice sounded from the side. "I'll check him over... if you like. Sorry to cause trouble?" Tara stepped from the side of her guard to peer anxiously from Spike to Bud to Xander.

Xander gave her a gentle smile. "Please, if it's not too much trouble."

Tara slipped out of the crowd and just looked at Riley for a moment. "No magic. Not even... well, anything." Tara started to go back into the crowd, but Spike motioned for her to approach him. She did, and he smiled gently; everyone was gentle around Tara. As she approached Spike, he looked her over and took a good sniff as well.

"I see you looking well. Is Bud good to you?"

Angel shifted impatiently behind Tara; Riley put a hand on his arm.

"Yes, he's very good to me. I feel safe with him. I'm sorry if you needed him."

Xander smiled when she glanced at him. He'd needed Bud, but not enough to call for him. Now he was glad he hadn't. Things were looking good for Tara now.

"No, didn't need him. I knew where he was and could have called him." Spike turned to Bud. "When you gonna make an honest woman of her?"

"As soon as I figure out who her... er... parent is. It's tradition, and I'd hate to have to go to my elders and tell them I didn't have proper permission. Not a good way to start a marriage."

Spike grumbled something about tribal something then made a decision. "I will stand _in loco parentis_. Will that do?"

Bud thought for a moment then nodded once. He moved to kneel at Spike's feet. "I formally request permission to begin courtship of Miss Tara McLay."

Spike took Tara by the hand and gazed into her eyes for a moment. "Is this acceptable to you?" Tara nodded vigorously. "Very well." He passed Tara's hand to Bud. "You may court her." Bud grinned and tugged on Tara's hand.

They stepped away from before the dais; Bud handed Tara off to her guard then returned to his place.

While this had been going on, Angel had been getting angrier and angrier. Riley was doing his best to calm him down, but not succeeding very well. Angel was seething.

"Excuse me? If we could get to the point of these proceedings?"

Spike just smirked. "Don't do to lose your temper, Sire. Point of these proceedings is to take care of court business. You want to butt the line?" Angel growled, but Riley patted him into silence. Spike looked the court over. "I don't mind, does anyone else?" His expression was open and bland. No one objected; they were all too curious as to what was going on. "Well, no one is complaining, so go ahead."

Riley stepped forward and found himself face to face with Xander's gun, again. "No closer. Talk, don't touch."

Riley stopped at once. "It's not my intention to bring strife to your court. Master Spike, the Initiative is done. The human powers that be found out what was going on, and... it wasn't pretty. The installation under Sunnydale is gone. And now there's a real problem. The Master of Sunnydale is gone. You're here instead of there. We need to establish relations between you and... an entity that has been set up to coordinate relations between the demon worlds and the human. It's going to be hard... and painful. But we need to do this."

Spike shook his head. "No. You want to make some sort of..." he waived a hand, "arrangements. Be my guest. But not with me. I'll keep to the old ways. Demons and humans need to be separate; there's too much chance of disaster."

Riley nodded. "That's right. And my group, as its main purpose, intends to support that ideal. Humans and demons should not mix. It's too dangerous to both sides."

Xander sighed, it was the same ol', same ol', and it wasn't going to work. "Sorry guys, but the separation of demon and human is a fallacy, and you all know it. Demons know about humans and some humans know about demons. It's not going to change, no matter how you try. What you really mean is; we need to keep the impact of humans finding out about demons to a minimum, to avoid panic. Right?"

Riley just glanced at Xander, muttered, "And another pet heard from," then turned back to Spike.

Spike just sighed. "Finn, I don't like you, don't trust you, and don't appreciate your arrogance. Xander is not a pet, never was a pet. He's my Companion and will be my Claimed. He's also my Dextera.

Xander smirked; Spike had gotten his message. Xander was now his first in command, and from the makeup of the court, Spike had also taken over as Master of Las Vegas, or at least taken over the more aggravating court side of things. Xander breathed a silent sigh of relief. He had more than enough to do.

Spike waited for that to sink in then motioned to Xander. "Xander, show Riley Finn why you are worthy of respect."

Xander shrugged his coat in to a more comfortable position and stepped to the fore. "Who do you want dead?"

Riley sneered a bit. Xander glared right back. "Still think I'm just the donut boy?"

"Well, I remember you fairly well. Not sayin' you're not good; just, demons are..."

"Not up to my level. Demonstration."

Xander watched as several fledges dragged a minor Master in. The vampire had violated several rules that Spike had recently implemented. Xander had sent several of his people after him, and only one had come back. Spike had sent some of his people, and three of them came back. Now, after sending another, much larger group, after him, he was being dragged in in chains.

Spike looked at him then at Angel. "What do I do with him? Hummm? He's done everything he can think of to draw a lot of unwanted attention to Under Vegas."

Angel shook his head. "I don't know. That's why I turned this over to you. Angelus could have done it, I can't. I'm a white hat, not a ruler."

Xander nodded his understanding. He wasn't a white hat anymore, but he knew he wasn't crown material either. He was better as an enforcer, and that was what he was going to do right now.

"Turn him lose." The vampires quickly unshackled the Master and got out of the way.

Riley started to step forward, but Angel caught his arm pulling him back and whispering in his ear.

Xander didn't bother to remove his coat or even try; he just pulled his sword and waited. The vampire knew he was doomed, knew it deep in his bones. That didn't keep him from wanting to take someone with him. He made the mistake of thinking that Spike was the only one who could take him.

The vampire had been a body builder in his human life and stuck with the unfortunate name of Ethelburt, which he'd changed to Burt as soon as he started school. The name seemed to have warped his perceptions, or perhaps he was just stupid.

Xander twirled his sword and watched as Burt sneered. When Xander came to guard, Burt attacked. Xander sidestepped him and pivoted to face him again. He raised an eyebrow and jerked his head in scorn. "That's all you've got? Please!"

Burt showed why he was in trouble to begin with; he pulled a knife and threw it at Xander. Xander caught it just as it whizzed by his ear. He glanced at it then tossed it aside. "Bad move. One, not a thrower. Two, you missed. Three, bad steel. You're an idiot. I might have been able to save your life, if you'd fought within the boundaries of tradition. You're toast now."

Xander shrugged, tucking his sword away with the motion. When he shrugged again, he had a short metal rod in his hand. With a quick twist he divided it into two long straight knives, or short swords.

He began weaving a web of glittering steel between himself and his opponent. His gliding steps misled his opponent who attempted to strike, punching at his head so quickly that the humans in the court missed his blow completely. They didn't miss the hand that fell to the floor, flopping like a fish out of water. The vampire squealed and rushed Xander; he got his ear cut off for his trouble. This time his eyes widened, as his brain caught up with his body, he whimpered and backed off.

Xander followed him, careful not to leave him an opening that he could exploit. Spike watched from his throne, but not Xander; he kept his eyes on Riley Finn. Finn was watching the battle with a stunned expression on his face. Angel wasn't much better, and that really aggravated Spike.

Burt snarled like the cornered beast he was. "I have a right to feed. A right to kill. I. Am. A. Master."

Xander shook his head. "That's were you're wrong. You're a minor master, at best. High Master Spike has set rules in place. It doesn't make any difference if you agree or not; you obey. You're not supposed to show yourself to humans; you did. You're not to leave a sloppy kill; you did that, too. Third,..."

Burt interrupted Xander, sneering; it wasn't very effective as he was crouched on the floor clutching his bleeding wrist. "What is this, a comic book? You plan to talk me to death?"

Xander glanced at Spike who just shrugged. "We'll read the whole laundry list later."

"Fine."

Burt realized that this was his death knell and attacked when he thought Xander was distracted. He wasn't. Xander had rested his swords one on each shoulder, arms crossed, while Spike was speaking. Now he just waited until Burt was close enough then uncrossed his arms, scissoring the swords and cutting Burt's head off easily. The resultant dust storm made him sneeze.

Riley glared at Angel. Angel had told him that Spike and Xander wouldn't be up to the challenge of managing California. Either Angel was misinformed, Riley didn't believe that, or he was projecting himself onto Spike. Riley felt himself relax; this was going to be easier than he'd expected.

Spike turned to Riley just as he was starting to speak.

"I'm not weak. Nor is my Companion. Speak your piece then leave. I don't want unannounced visitors either. Understand?"

Riley nodded. "What we, or rather my higher ups want, is an eye in your court. A known spy, if you will. The reason for this is simply that we need to know if things are going to get out of hand so that we can take over, if necessary."

Spike snorted. "You can't do it. I'm still getting my territory under control; that's going to take some doing, and I can't afford to show that kind of weakness. I'm going to be doing some major traveling, and I'll leave a Secundus here. I'll also pick a few Secundii for other areas. They'll all report to me. I was going to establish Xander as one, but he makes a much better IDextera, don't you think? I don't need the aggravation of a spy, even one I know is there. Why would you think I'd allow one?"

"Angel said that you'd welcome one. Someone who'd help you gain control of your territory. We're working with him in LA, and he... well, I can see that it's not going to work. Um... now what?"

Xander leaned on Spike's throne and whispered in his ear. "They need our help. They're not going to admit it, but they do."

Spike turned to look at Xander for a moment. "I think you're right. Angel's bitten off more than he can chew and gone running to someone for help. Don't like it."

"Me, neither."

Spike turned to Riley. "I've made my decision. If you..." He looked at Riley then Angel. "Either one of you, need help, ask and I'll send it. Tend your city, Angel, and stay out of my business. Or you'll wind up with no city. You wanted me to be master of this territory; I am. And I intend to stay."

Riley nodded, looking a bit sad. "That's good. But... if you lose control, we'll step in."

Spike gave Riley a feral grin. "That's fine. If I lose control, best you do step in. I won't care because I'll be dead an' dust."

Riley nodded. "Ah... one question?"

"Asked a bunch already, what difference is one more?" Spike gave Riley a sharp look none the less.

"If you're the Master of California, why did you set your base of operations in the middle of Nevada?"

Spike laughed. "Well, it's the middle of my territory, innit?"

Riley looked confused. "Middle of your territory? I thought you were Master of California?"

"I am. Old California. The territories were established during the colonial days, days when California was still a Spanish Possession. My territory goes from the Mississippi to the coast. Timmins, where's that damn map?"

Timmins stepped forward carrying a rolled piece of real parchment. When he unrolled it everyone could see the different territories marked out in hand drawn pen lines and rather sloppy watercolors. It was stained with what looked like old blood and who knew what.

Riley eyed the map then remarked, "That's not the Mississippi, that's more like the middle of Kansas."

Spike looked irritated. "Damn it, I'm allowed a bit a' poetic license once in a while. Still, it's something like a third of the continental US and extends from above the Canadian border down into Mexico."

Xander just blinked at the map for a second then started laughing. He looked at Angel, who was looking a bit stunned. "So, gave up more than you thought, didn't you? You could have lorded it over all that territory and forced your bleeding heart ideals on so many unsuspecting vampires. Good thing you abdicated when you did. You'd only have torn the whole continent into warring factions."

Angel looked pissed. "Things have to change. The way the world is going, we're going to be reveled sooner or later."

Xander nodded. "Yeah, things have to change. But slow and easy, sneak things up on them. You throw all this..." Xander waived a hand, encompassing more that Spike's court with the gesture, "into their faces at once and the Underworld is in trouble. Get them used to one thing at a time, and we just might make it work."

Angel snorted, but Riley was interested and asked, "How long do you think it will take?"

Xander shrugged, glanced at Spike who just nodded. "Probably more than a hundred years, but who's counting?"

Angel grimaced, but Riley had to smile. "Yeah, who's counting. I'll notify my people that you're perfectly capable of handling your affairs yourself. If you need us, call us. We'll be around. Can we call on you?"

Spike thought about that. "Notify us if you need help." He held up his hand, palm towards Riley. "I'll want all the info, so I can make an informed decision." He looked at Angel then back to Riley. "Anything else?"

Xander stepped forward. "I'd like to know how you got from the Initiative to where you are now. Matter of trust, see?"

Riley sighed, rubbed his face and started telling his tale. "I found out that the Initiative was feeding us all drugs. I have no idea what all they were supposed to do. But it wasn't pleasant. Buffy had a fit. I got out, went to South America for a while. But things were getting bad on the Hellmouth, quickly. Giles wasn't answering calls," Riley held up his hand. "And I know why. No blame there, just fact. He's more useful here. I got a call from the Order of Taraka, very classified. They wanted my help to form an organization of human and demon military forces. I liked what they told me so I joined up. Got some guarantees and such. So, I'm liaison between demon and human organizations; there're several of us. I'm first contact a lot of times because I'm capable of defending myself, I think." Xander snorted. "Well, unless my opponent is very well trained. All my organization wants is to make sure there are no incidents between human and demon. We're working in concert with the Order of Taraka. Or under them, I'm not really quite sure. So, that's the what."

Spike nodded his head, understanding at last. Anyone involved with the Order of Taraka was well aware that, if it suited the Order, they were a sacrifice. He wasn't sure how useful this new organization was going to be, nor if he really supported it, but he wasn't going to deny it either. He'd just sit back and see.

"Fair enough. I'll watch you. I'm not sure about you, and I'll be plain, I think you're going to fall on your faces rather quickly. Humans aren't going to trust demons and demons are sure not going to trust humans. I think your best bet is to keep out of things and let the High Masters handle their own territories, like they've been doing for centuries, themselves."

Xander relaxed visibly, he really wasn't interested in getting involved in the problems of other masters. Humans could deal with their trouble themselves, too.

Spike leaned against Xander's hip to tell him the same thing.

Angel sighed. "I think you're all missing the point of this. You'll do as I say. If Mr. Finn asks for something you'll give it to him."

Spike's head rose like a snake's. This was a threat to his authority; one Angel had no right to make.

"Sorry, pet, no deal. Finn's welcome to petition me like any other person in my territory, but no deals."

Angel loomed over Riley and everyone near. Tara squeaked, several other individuals made similar sounds.

"You'll do as I say." Angel vamped out and took a step forward. Xander just retreated into shadows.

"Make me." Spike vamped as well, dropped his coat into Timmins's hands and stepped down from the dais.

Timmins eased to stand next to Xander. "Oh, shit." Xander nodded, hissing, "No, shit."

Angel roared and attacked Spike who met him at the apex of his charge. The smack of fist on flesh filled the air, the blows coming so fast that only a few could actually see the individual moves. Spike yowled like a cat and dropped to one knee for a moment. Angel moved to take advantage of this and got a heavy boot to the gut for his troubles. Spike bounded to his feet and followed up with another kick to the ribs and a vigorous attempt at choking Angel. Angel shook him off, and staggering back out of range, rubbed his throat for a moment. He shook his head and snarled, "Don't breathe, remember?"

Spike licked his teeth and laughed. "Yeah, I do, but it's really aggravating, ain't it?"

Xander shook his head, wishing that Spike would get it over with.

"Yes, it's really annoying. So, why?"

"Because I can."

Spike waited a beat then kicked Angel's feet out from under him and jumped on his chest with both feet. Several of Angel's ribs broke with audible cracks. He choked, rolled over and coughed up blood. Spike pounced on his back, trying to pull his head back into position to bite him. Angel kicked out and managed to throw Spike off, but he couldn't get his feet under himself before Spike was right back on him kicking and punching. Angel tried to grab onto Spike to wrestle him, hoping to use his greater weight to his advantage. Spike was much too quick for this and hopped out of reach. The onlookers either gasped or groaned.

When Spike cleared the way, Angel rolled to his feet and set himself in a defensive posture. Spike stayed back and watched him for a moment. This set Angel's teeth on edge and pricked him into doing something stupid. He attacked at a dead rush that left him open to any attack. If it had worked, he would have gotten Spike in a bear hug that he couldn't break out of. It didn't work. Spike skipped out of the way easily. This put Angel completely off balance, hurt and weakening quickly.

"Back off, Sire. I'm not yours to punish anymore. I'm my own person, with my own problems. You can't help. You can't fix it. You dumped this mess on me, now back off and let me do it. Give up. I don't want to have to kill you."

Angel panted, coughing up more blood. "I don't want this either, but..." Angel eyed Spike who glared right back. "Oh, fuck it. You're right; I dumped this mess on you. Deal." He slipped slowly to his knees and sat back on his heels. He tipped his head back in a gesture of submission. His face returned to his human appearance. "You're High Master of California; I'm only Master of Los Angeles. I submit."

Spike moved to stand behind Angel, leaned down and bit him. He bit him right over the jugular and took one hard draw of blood from him. "Ok. Submission accepted. Timmins, take him down to the stable, introduce him to some of the people and see he's taken proper care of." Angel started to argue. "No argument. Riley, you go with. I want you to see a proper stable."

Riley just nodded, helped Angel to his feet, and followed Timmins out a side door.

Xander nodded his head at Riley then turned to tend to Spike. This was one of the times when Spike needed him most. Not his submission, but his strength. Spike was still on his feet, but he was hurt and swayed slightly. Xander wrapped his arms around his lover and tipped his head to one side. Spike bit into Xander's neck, gently easing his fangs into the flesh. Xander gave a chest deep groan and relaxed against him. Spike fed carefully, taking only enough to strengthen and heal himself, without weakening Xander unduly.

"Done, greedy-guts?" Xander clung to Spike's shoulders for a second, getting his balance.

"Yeah. Ta ever so." Spike helped Xander to the side of his throne and got him settled there, sitting on one hip in what Xander called a 'mermaid'. Xander leaned against the arm with a sigh.

The court continued around him with the usual complaints and arguments.

"Here, drink this." Xander looked up at the voice. Tara was holding a mug out to him. It smelled of herbs and spices. "It's a strengthening tea. It'll make you feel better."

Xander smiled, glanced at Spike who just nodded, and accepted the tea. "Thanks, Miss Tara."

"You need me to do anything for you?"

Xander thought for a second. "Can you go check on Angel for me?"

"Sure. Bud?" Bud appeared from nowhere and took her arm. They left together, heads tipped towards each other.

.

It wasn't three days later that Sylvia came into his office while he was doing his homework. It hadn't taken Tom and Giles long to find that he learned a lot more quickly than they had estimated. All he really needed was for his glasses to do their job. He also needed just a bit of practice writing. He still preferred shorthand for his note though; it was faster.

"Excuse me, boss. There's someone here to see you. Says she has a translation for you to do and wants to talk to you personally."

Xander took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. They were tired from so much writing and he was glad of the break. "Ok, as long as it's not on the no-no list, I'll take a look at it."

"Send her right in, then?"

Xander nodded. "And bring coffee."

Sylvia walked out the door. Xander heard a murmur of voices then Buffy came in the door.

"Hi, Xander. How are you?"

"Good, good. You?"

"Really good. Um... this is weird."

"Not so much. Sit, please."

Buffy sat, pinching the pleat in her trousers up like a man. "Thank you." She dumped her huge purse on the floor.

Sylvia came back in with a coffee set and put it on Xander's desk. He picked up a cup and fixed some for Buffy. He fixed his own cup and settled back in his chair.

Xander watched Buffy for a few moments then just asked, "Ok, what do you want?"

"Nothing. I just... it's time for me to clear the decks from some of my mistakes. I was so caught up in being The Slayer, The Chosen One, that I forgot a few things; like, Giles was my Watcher for a reason. Like, you are more than a fetch and carry, even if all you do is get coffee. Like, Willow had no right to enforce her will on someone else, no matter how powerful she is. And a few other things. I'm really sorry I let her do that to you."

Xander shrugged. "I don't really blame you. How were you supposed to keep her from working magic?"

Buffy grimaced. "In this case, saying no would have done it. I didn't see any harm in getting Spike to be your friend, and I persuaded him. Willow talked you into it. Sorry. Um... how is it working out?"

"Not bad. He spoils me rotten. Got me this nifty collar." Xander showed Buffy his collar. "And don't go all wibble lip on me. It's a good thing. Lets people know who I am, keeps me safe, helps him find me if he needs to. I like it. Besides the sex is mind blowing."

Buffy choked on her coffee and Xander snickered then waited until she got her throat clear.

"I hear you're training."

"Yes, Master Bruce Chen has agreed to teach me. And Yakov Ptomkin too. He's going to have to go back to Israel soon. Shame, I really like him. And they finally found out what my problem is. I'm dyslexic." Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Learning disability, I'm training on that, too. It's really working. You?"

Buffy shrugged. "Slaying. Not really that much to tell about it. Heard you're on call if there's a big bad around."

"Spike and I both are. Got a problem?"

Buffy smiled. "No. Just touching base with you. Learned a bit about being political. Riley is good at that sort of thing."

Xander nodded. "I see. You decided to get serious?"

"Council sort of dumped me, like I had VD or something. They told me, be a good girl and we'll help you. I'm not in the mood to yield to blackmail. I'll manage on my own. I've been doing fairly good so far. I just need to know if you'll back me up if I need it."

"I'll come if you call me." Xander sipped his coffee for a moment. "This is nice."

Buffy smiled over the rim of her cup. "Yeah, no heart burnings or recriminations. Once more, so you'll know I really mean it, I'm really sorry about what I did. Willow... she just... I think she might have compelled me a little. I had a witch from England come over, look at me and shake her head. She made me take a bath in some stinky herb stuff. I feel more clear-headed. Willow is still in England. Giles... he doesn't talk about her."

"Giles..." Xander trailed off. Giles was his own man. If he wanted to keep in touch with Buffy, that was his business. "I'm glad you still talk."

"We talk. I call him about once every other week. Just to yak a bit. I miss him, but I really think he's doing more good here. Oh, and I do have a scroll. It's on yak hide or something." Buffy fished around in her purse and found her scroll.

It was rolled up around an ebony rod, enclosed in a hammered copper sleeve decorated with gold and capped with gold caps. Xander unrolled a bit of it and smiled. "Who sold you this?"

Buffy shook her head. "I got it from a... passing Master. He said it would shake the world and stars. Kinda freaked me out. Can you read it?"

Xander unrolled a bit more of the scroll. "Did you unroll this at all?"

Buffy gave him a wide-eyed look."Who me? Not a chance. I'm not letting any mojo loose until I know exactly what it is. What's it say?"

Xander laughed softly "Um... you really don't want to know."

"Oh, is it bad?" Buffy bit her lip, looking worried.

Xander took pity on her. "It's a pillow book written in Sanskrit. Part of the Kama Sutra... sort of."

Buffy blinked. "A what?"

"A pillow book. A polite term for a sex manual. In a very old language. And... if you're homosexual... it will shake the world and stars. All night long."

Buffy gave Xander a stunned look. "That... that... shit. He swore to me that it was dangerous and... and... I'm so gonna stake him if I ever see him again."

Xander rolled up the scroll and slid it back into its tube. He rather reluctantly handed it over the desk. Buffy held up her hands and shook her head. "Oh, no you don't. I don't have any need for that. You keep it. Enjoy."

Xander lit up. "Well, thanks. Um... you wanna see the rest of the place?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah, thanks." She stood up and picked up her purse.

Xander stood, walked around the desk and offered Buffy his arm. She blinked a moment then took it. Xander led her through the residence ignoring the hisses of some of the younger vampires. Buffy ignored them, too.

"Would you like to meet Master Bruce and Mr. Ptomkin? Yakov has to leave soon. Tomorrow, I think. Like I said before, he's needed back in Israel for some reason. He says he'd have to kill us if he told us. I think he just likes being mysterious."

Buffy shivered a bit at the negligent way Xander spoke about something like that.

Xander patted Buffy's shoulder. "Cold? It can be a bit chilly down here. I like it cooler in the dojo than some. Here. Sit down, and I'll see who's here." Xander settled Buffy on a zafu and zabuton then went into the back. Buffy settled comfortably, pulling off her shoes and putting them beside her purse on the outer floor. She knew better than to walk on the dojo floor with shoes on.

Xander came back to her, followed by a Chinese man and another man who she recognized as very dangerous, no matter how unremarkable he looked. She stood and shook hands with both of them. They all settled on zafu to visit. Buffy sighed softly, it wasn't that she was uncomfortable, but she wasn't comfortable either.

"Damn, Buffy, I'm sorry. Would you be more comfortable in a gi? Or sweats? I could find you something."

Buffy smiled at Xander. "I'd really appreciate that. I heard from Riley that you're really good. I thought... well, we might have a match. If you like?"

Xander gave her one of the silly, goofy grins she remembered so well. "That'd be great. Come with me and I'll fix you up."

They excused themselves to Master Bruce and Yakov who both just waved them on.

It didn't take Xander long to find a locker for Buffy. He found that she had sweat pants and a sports bra in that huge purse of hers. Xander left telling her to rejoin the group when she got changed.

She returned to the group and settled comfortably. They talked about weapons, attacks, defense, and how best to fake out what demon. Buffy displayed her expertise without her usual arrogance. Xander decided that she'd had it slapped out of her somewhere along the line. It made her a lot more attractive. Xander felt Spike peek in on them and looked up. Spike raised an eyebrow, but Xander smiled at him, so he left with a wave.

Buffy turned the conversation to weapons training, and Bruce offered to show her his swords. Xander said that he could show Buffy his swords, too. Buffy enjoyed looking at them and knew better than to ask to wield one.

When she saw Xander's swords she had to smile. "Trust Spike to get you the best of the best. I'm a bit jealous." She turned to Master Bruce. "I hear that you taught him the penultimate attack of your school. When are you going to teach him the ultimate attack?"

Xander just shook his head. "Never."

Buffy turned to look in surprise at Xander. "Why not?"

Master Bruce took over glaring at a snickering Yakov. "Because the ultimate attack is so dangerous to teach that the student usually kills the master when he conquers it. Xander doesn't want to take that chance. The penultimate attack is more than good enough."

Buffy blinked at Xander's stony face then shuddered again. This was not the Xander she remembered. This was a man-of-arms; a man who would do whatever he needed to do.

"I see." She turned on her best smile and asked, "Xander, how would you like to spar with me?"

Xander glanced at Master Bruce. He nodded, so Xander agreed. He went to change into a gi.

.

Buffy bowed to Master Bruce, and glanced at Yakov who just nodded to her. She turned and bowed to Xander, who bowed back.

Xander stood back to let her come to him. He wanted to see if she was holding back before he let himself go. It wouldn't do to hammer her if she wasn't going full out. They spent some time testing each other. When Buffy finally let go, Xander met her head on with all he had. They fought back and forth over the floor, Buffy on the offensive then Xander. Master Bruce and Yakov both watched with appreciation. They would both critique Xander later; Buffy too, if she asked.

Buffy finally got Xander down, but she couldn't keep him down. They declared it a draw. They both jumped at the patter of applause, neither one of them had noticed the gathering observers.

Buffy flinched and pivoted on her heel, putting her back to Xander's. Xander, more used to this, just looked pleased. Buffy had changed; she'd trusted someone at her back. Xander was pleased that she thought he was worthy.

"Easy, Buffy, they do this all the time."

Buffy dropped her hands and cleared her throat, obviously embarrassed. "Sorry. Startled me."

"That's Ok. Used to freak me out, too." He turned to the crowd. "Ok, people, no more to see, take off." The crowd dispersed, chattering softly about what they'd seen.

Buffy took a bottle of water from Yakov then settled on a zafu to listen. Xander accepted a towel and water from Master Bruce with a nod. Spike eased out of the shadows where he'd been watching. He usually stayed out of sight if there was a crowd so as not to spoil their enjoyment. Now, he nodded to Buffy then sat behind Xander; Xander sighed and leaned against him.

"Slayer."

"Spike."

The next hour was spent in analyzing Buffy and Xander's match, eating snacks, and drinking tea. The talk was friendly and comfortable. Spike kept his ruder remarks to himself. Buffy refrained from calling him names. Xander was happy.

.

Giles read the letter with a frown on his face. Willow was asking to see him. He was disinclined to do so. He'd managed to send her where she could get help. That was all he could do.

He wasn't sure she had stopped using magic inappropriately yet. He didn't want to take chances with her recovery, or Xander's new found self assurance.

.

I drew and painted this map to look like what I saw in my head when I described the map several chapters ago.

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Double sword staff

a href=".com/albums/b350/yanagi-wa/?action=view¤t;=" target="_blank"img src="." border="0" alt="Photobucket"/a


	35. Chapter 35

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: 35/?

Word count: 9463

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language,

Parings: Spike/Xander

Beta: aayesha_r (due to last minute rewriting, all remaining mistakes are mine.)

All chapters a href=l"."here/a

This link leads to my website.

.

Xander thought about his class work; he was well pleased with his progress. He'd been reading English on a 9th grade level, and now he was reading well above that. Giles had said something about college seniors reading worse. He was also very pleased with his handwriting. He'd always had something of a chicken scratch, but now he was using a neat, printed hand that was very legible, although he still kept his notes in shorthand as it was much quicker to write. Tim, Mr. Dalton to everyone else, was also very pleased. He and Giles had worked very hard with Xander, and and Xander appreciated it.

Xander sighed and turned back to his work. He was writing the much despised 'What I did on my summer vacation' paper. He'd snarled at Giles, who had just shrugged and said, "Sorry, it's actually a requirement. And there're a couple of others that I despise just as much as you do, but they have to be in your record."

"We've been at this for almost a year and I still have all sorts of stupid stuff to do to finish my requirements... again. Didn't I already graduate? I thought I did. Remember? Big snake, school go boom?"

Giles smiled. "I do indeed. But you don't have that much more to do. In fact, I think we'll cheat just a bit. A lot of what the Learning Disabilities Center wants you did in school; if I can get copies of that, I'll use them." He sipped at the ever present tea and changed the subject. "You killed a lothrac demon last night. How?"

Xander turned red. "Well, you know they can be killed with any acid."

"I know that. Come on, 'fess." Giles got that stubborn look that Xander knew meant he would keep at it until he found out.

"Ok, Ok. I pissed on it. Satisfied?"

Giles started laughing and had to put down his teacup. "Oh, my. Oh, dear. That's priceless. The Sword of Vegas defeating a demon by peeing on him."

Xander gave Giles a look. "I did knock it down first." Then he started laughing, too. "But you know... whatever works. Spike would spank my ass good if I took unnecessary chances. There are enough necessary ones."

Giles agreed with that one then sighed as Tom Dalton and Dominic Vigilanti came in. They were now two of Xander's captains, Spike's Secundii. Xander just sighed and stood up.

"Ok, what's the problem now?" Xander stretched out a hand for the note that Dominic offered him.

Dominic handed it to him and took an attentive stance, hands clasped in front of him in a position that betrayed his Mafia background. "Sorry, boss, but the Progress has to start now. Master Spike managed to put it off for a year, stating that he needed to get his domain in order. Now, we've got to go or they'll all claim insult. Master Spike sent that note to remind you of who all is supposed to go."

Xander opened the note and sighed; there were nearly 60 names on the list. He now had to arrange transportation for 60 assorted beings including vampires, demons, and humans. It gave him a headache just thinking about it.

He called Sylvia to come in and bring her transcriber which she did. Then he settled behind his desk and began to think. Giles stood by to listen and offer what suggestions he could. He and Xander did this often; sometimes with Spike, sometimes without. Tom Dalton would help, too, but this was going to be a thing of the past soon as he was being assigned as a Secundus, Master of Sunnydale. In other words, he was deemed worthy of being a High Master in charge of one of the most difficult towns in the domain. Spike had elevated him just last night. Xander was very pleased by this and let Spike know it. Spike was very pleased, too. In fact, they pleased each other.

Xander pulled his attention back to the subject at hand. "Tom, when are you heading out for Sunnyhell?"

Tom settled in a chair, raising his eyebrow for permission first. At Xander's nod, both he and Dominic had sat.

"I thought I'd head out tomorrow evening. I don't need to make the Progression with you so I decided that I'd get a head start on the job. Do you need me? If so, I'll put it off."

Xander just grinned. "No, no, go, take over. I'm just really pleased; you deserve it."

Tom bowed from his seated position. "Thank you. I just hope I'm up to the job."

Xander snorted. "If you can plan lesson plans, do research, and keep me on track, you can manage Sunnydale. My only suggestion is, go see Buffy; don't make her come to you. Get her on your side."

"I've already been in contact with Miss Buffy several times. When she came to visit last time we sat down and... swapped Xander stories. We get along well. She shared her desires, her... hopes, if you will... for Sunnydale and herself. Miss Dawn has decided to stay with her father in LA and I believe that Miss Buffy is lonely. I'll make sure that she has rooms in the Masters Hall. I am not moving into the old master's quarters. They're... disgusting."

Xander realized that he'd never actually seen the old master's quarters; Spike had had digs of his own and never used them.

"That bad?"

"Terrible. They are beneath the city in an old, buried church."

Xander blinked. "Oh, yeah, now I remember. Not nice. You're right to get your own. You don't like Spike's place?"

"I can't take that over. It's still his. I need to show that I'm my own man, not a minion of High Master Spike's. Even though I am. Face, you know."

Xander nodded. "You're right. You need any help getting your plans in order?"

"No, I thought I might sit in on yours and offer my input."

Xander grinned. "Thanks, I can use it."

So they settled in to make all the arrangements for Spike's Progression to the other territories. Between them, Xander, Dominic, Tom, and Giles finalized the arrangements in less than three hours. Sylvia left with her machine to transcribe all the notes into travel plans, vehicle lists, and seating arrangements.

Giles nodded. "Well, that's that. I'm staying here. I have no intention of subjecting myself to the annoyance of traveling with Spike. And there's this particularly interesting book I've been meaning to read. Have fun. I'll be there to see you off." He got up and ambled out the door, whistling softly.

Xander smiled and waved to him; as the door closed he turned to Dominic and smirked. "You know damn well that he's going to spend the next month holed up with that smokin' hot blonde from the stables, don't you?"

Dominic shrugged, "And that's bad?" Xander laughed, shaking his head. "I checked her out, of course; she's Ok. Nice girl from a nice family, got a little lost. She's well educated, quiet, and off the junk. Clean as a whistle."

"Ok, just making sure. So, we travel. Anything I need to know about?"

Dominic thought for a moment, sipping at his ever-present latte. "Not much. As you're a Claimed Companion, you're off limits to everyone. No touchie. You're also High Master Spike's Enforcer, so that gives you a lot of leeway as to what you'll tolerate. Get chesty with them; if that doesn't back them off, kill 'em. That's my advice. But what do I know?"

Xander laughed. "A lot more than me, that's for sure. But don't I have to be careful? What if the pest turns out to be a big wig?"

Dominic looked at Xander then said, "Are you trying to annoy the shit out of me, or are you just not thinking?" Xander snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Ok, cards on the table. You're only as good as the last kill you made. If you kill them, they deserved it for biting off more than they can chew. Got me? And don't let anyone except Master Spike make you back down. Ever. Our domain is bigger than any other, and we're richer than all the others put together. We're also tougher. See?"

"I do." Xander's expression turned from considering to ruthless. "I really do. Face. It's all about face. Right?"

"Exactly. Who's got it, who wants it, and how they plan to get it, or ruin it."

Xander sighed; he didn't like this part of his job very much. He was always afraid he'd kill the wrong person and cause trouble for Spike. He'd spent quite some time getting his head around the fact that he was Spike's right hand and enforcer. He'd always thought of a Claimed Companion as some sort of senior pet or something. Spike hadn't taken long to get that all sorted out. A Claimed Companion was a non-vampire who was the sole companion to a High Master Vampire with whom he shared sex and blood regularly. Xander wondered from time to time how he'd gotten to be so lucky.

"Ok, I know that, I really do. Come on, let's go find Spike and get his input. If we don't, we'll just have it all to do again, perverse fuck that he is."

Dominic grinned at Xander's fond tone and nodded. "That he is, but you'll never hear me say it to his face. He'd just rip mine off."

Xander agreed that this was probably so then realized that Spike would have to beat him to it. He could insult Spike all he wanted to, but no one else could. He chuckled to himself at the thought.

"Yeah, well, let's get to it. I want all this approved and done. I don't leave things until the last minute." He started out the door, but paused when his cell phone rang. "Buffy! Hi! No, we're going on Progression starting next week, or as soon as Spike approves the arrangements and we actually implement them." He listened for a moment then laughed. "Not so much. I'm the Enforcer, and they really do jump when I say 'frog'." Dominic had to grin a bit; his vampiric hearing allowed him to follow both ends of the conversation. Buffy was asking why. "Because I'll kill them if they don't. I'm a High Master's Companion, Claimed or whatever. Now, you called? What for? Not trying to be rude, just busy." Buffy replied that she was just checking up on her counterpart, the new Master of the Hellmouth. "Oh, Dalton will be there day after tomorrow. He's leaving tomorrow evening. If you need his itinerary, call Sylvia. I don't have a clue."

Buffy talked for a few more seconds then said 'good-bye' and hung up. Xander ended the call and pocketed his Blackberry.

They walked across the reception area to Spike's office and found him on the phone as well, with Angel. Xander groaned; it always put Spike in a rotten mood. "No nookie for me tonight. Damn."

Dominic just sighed. No sex usually put Xander in a bad mood, too. He didn't take it out on others like Spike sometimes did, but it did make him sharp-tongued. He settled himself with his back to the door, heels against it. Old habits died hard.

"Spike, here's the arrangements. Tell Angel to fuck off and let's get down to business."

Spike grinned at Xander and said into the phone, "Naff off, Peaches. We'll take care of that, if you haven't, when we get back. That gives you about three to four weeks."

Xander rubbed his face. "What's he panicking about now? I swear, he's the worst broody old woman ever."

"Got that right. He says someone is trying to take over the gangs in LA, but he doesn't know who."

Xander snorted. "I know that one. It's a couple of minor chaos mages. I sent Bud and Tara to take care of it."

Spike grinned. "Oh, Ok. And how's the courting going?"

"Great. That's one of the reasons Bud took Miss Tara with him, to prove that she's worthy of standing by his side."

Spike grew still in a way only a vampire can. "Worthy? That wanker better never say she isn't."

Xander nodded. "He's not, calm down. It's just part of the courting ritual. Tara's thrilled. Bud's about to bust his buttons that they've made it this far so fast. Now, we're here to discuss the arrangements for the Progression. Sit. Tea."

Spike sat and ordered tea which Sylvia brought at once. She also brought the typed up notes and itinerary.

Xander accepted them with a smile. "Still the fastest typist in the world."

Sylvia wiggled her fingers. "Vampiric speed and a word-to-text program work wonders. There's probably still some typos in there, but I figured speed was more important. They're just the rough notes anyway, I'll type them up nice when they're approved." She grinned at Dominic on her way out. "More coffee?" Dominic eyed his cup then shook his head. "Ring if you need me; I'll hang around until you're done." She shut the door on her way out and Dominic started to reassume his position.

"Nick, sit down. You make me nervous, standing around like that." Spike pointed to a chair.

Dominic sat down with a shrug. "Ok, boss, sorry about that."

Xander snorted. "No, you're not. But that's Ok, I like it that you're always on guard." He turned to Spike and pointed to the papers. "Go over all that and make your changes then we'll argue about them and finalize them. I don't want to wait until the last minute to give them to Timmins. He'll probably have some input as well."

Spike thought about that for a moment. "And why didn't Timmins do this in the first place?"

Xander sighed heavily, putting on a disgruntled expression. "He said I needed to know how to do all this and just threw me to the wolves. Bastard."

"I believe his parents were married. And he's right, you do need to know how to do this; so, who helped you?"

"Giles, Dominic, and Tom. We brainstormed it. Think tank sort of thing. I don't see any need for me to try to figure out all this sort of thing by myself when I have help like that. Doesn't make sense and it's a waste besides." Xander sipped at the hot tea.

Spike lifted his cup in a silent salute and sipped, too. "Nice. I do like Oolong. How's yours?"

Xander took another sip of the smoky Russian Caravan. "Good. Strange how I like my coffee loaded and my tea plain. So, you going to read that, or just use it for a coaster?"

Spike snarled at Xander in a half-hearted fashion and started to read. It took him two cups of tea and thirty minutes to do it. When he was done, he put the last page down and nodded. "Looks good to me. Everyone has a ticket with their vehicle and seat numbers, and a firm no trading policy. I like it. You did good, Xan. I'm impressed."

Xander gave Spike an adoring look; he'd gotten over being shy about such things, finally. "Thanks. I'll hand all this to Timmins and get him started on the final arrangements. I'll handle policing, but I don't think there'll be much argument."

"And if there is?" Spike waited coldly for an answer.

Xander grinned at Spike, all teeth and no humor. "I'll handle it."

Spike relaxed and gave Xander an approving smile that made Dominic roll his eyes. He sometimes wondered how the hell two of the most ruthless men he knew could be such saps.

.

It didn't take Timmins long to look over the arrangements and approve them. He had admitted that he was impressed with Xander's planning even when Xander admitted that he'd had a lot of help. Timmins only remarked that a Dextera was too important to waste his time making plans that someone else could do just as well. He delegated then approved. Xander had nodded then remarked, "Yes, but you also say I have to know how to do it myself before I can know whether or not the plans will work. I think I agree with you."

Now they were well on their way to New Orleans, with a stop over in San Antonio TX on the way. Xander was glad for the closed Winnebago driven by a human driver. They didn't have to lay over somewhere in between. At the speed limit, they were going to be on the road for over nineteen hours, but he didn't want to risk staying somewhere between Vegas and San Antonio. There was too much risk. Some cleaning woman might open curtains on them, or some random demon hunter walk in on the crew. Some priest might decide to bless the strangers. And who knew what might happen out in the middle of nowhere not to mention in Phoenix, Tucson, or El Paso. Xander sighed and bit his lip. It was too bad flying hadn't been an option. He'd have been willing to charter a jet, but there was still an issue of his weapons which he wasn't traveling without. Then, too, there was all the associated baggage that went with the entourage.

Spike looked up from the book he was reading. "What's that huge sigh about?"

"I don't like this. There's way too much that could happen. What if...'

Spike held up a hand. "What if, what if. You're going to worry yourself old and gray. Stop it. We'll be fine."

Xander grumbled a bit, but tried to stop worrying.

They drove through the day and ended in San Antonio at around ten that night. The night was more or less uneventful, for which Xander was grateful. The wake-up call nearly got the bellboy eaten, but that was his fault. Xander had expressly asked for a call, not a door knock. He thought it was hilarious that Spike called it a 'knock up'. Spike's indignant "Oi!" when he cracked up made him laugh even more.

Xander was really glad that there was no master in San Antonio. He didn't want to deal with a court after all that traveling with more to come. Spike had announced that he was going to install a master as soon as he got back from the Progression. But it wasn't that big a deal; San Antonio was a quiet town.

The next day saw them through Houston, again quietly. Xander thanked his lucky stars. Traveling with 60 or so assorted demons, vampires, and humans was guaranteed to result in some disaster or other. It was just a matter of time. He decided to put his worries away until it was time. He'd planned as best he could for any thing he could think of and that was the best he could do. Spike didn't seem worried at all, so Xander decided to copy his attitude and just enjoy things.

The six or so hours from Houston to New Orleans were accomplished in daylight and they arrived at the obscure hotel well before sundown. The whole trip from San Antonio through Houston and on to New Orleans had taken a grand total of nine hours; traffic through Houston had been heavy, but not excessively so.

Xander thought he was going to die from boredom before they got to their destination. When they did, he perked up.

"Spike, it's really beautiful. Why's it called obscure?" Xander eyed the huge old building.

Spike didn't answer as he hurried from the RV to the door; the canopy was large, but he wasn't taking chances. Rather embarrassing to burst into flames the first day visiting. He was followed by a contingent of demons and vampires, some holding umbrellas over their heads. Xander noticed one demon carrying a pink-flowered parasol; this was particularly disturbing as the demon was large, gray, and looked somewhat like a cross between a squid and a hippo. Xander followed Spike when he was sure the traveling court was calm. He did not want a fight in the foyer.

It took them all of an hour to get everyone checked in and to their assigned rooms. Some went to the underground rooms and others took rooms on the ground and second floors. Xander wasn't too happy about having his people all over the hotel until the manager pointed out that they were all on the same stair case and connected; also, that he'd shut off their sections from the rest of the hotel. Xander relaxed. He wasn't sure what was bothering him, but something was.

"Pet?" Spike still called Xander pet, but only in private, usually when he was worried about something.

"Yeah?"

"What is it?"

Xander shrugged irritably. "Not sure, I just don't like having people on three different levels. Feels... off. I wish we were all on one floor. The manager said we're isolated by having the corridors shut off... but... I'm not sure. I just don't like it."

"I'll talk to the wanker. If you want us all on one floor, pick one, I'll see that we're all on it."

Xander thought for a moment. "No, I'm in charge of this circus, I'll do it. I was just wondering if I'm being silly or there really is something to worry about."

Spike patted him on the back then rubbed it in soothing circles for a moment. "If it bothers you, fix it. You're feeling something, we'll cater to it. So, go, fix it then come to our rooms."

Xander nodded. "Ok. I'll be back as soon as I can."

.

Xander motioned to the manager and eased him into a corner of the lobby; he didn't want to cause a real scene unless it was necessary.

"I'd like you to make arrangements to bring everyone in my party to the underground level. I don't like having my people spread all over the hotel." Xander kept his expression neutral, not friendly, but not adversarial; yet.

"Now, see here, young man, all the arrangements were approved by the Master's companion. "

Xander sighed and rubbed his face, this was going to be a pain. "No, they weren't."

"I assure you, they were. Now, why don't you run along and find your rooms."

Xander flexed a bit, making his chest ripple. "I'm in the Royal Suite with my Master. He doesn't like the idea of our people spread across three floors, either. See to changing the rooms, please." Xander's tone was still polite, but a touch of a chill had crept in.

The manager sensed this chill and, putting two and two together, hurried to soothe his customer. "Oh, I see. Of course we want you to be comfortable. I'll have to do some rearranging and it might take a bit. We'll see to it as soon as possible. And I apologize for any inconvenience."

Xander just nodded and walked away. The manager breathed a sigh of relief; that could have gone badly for not only him, but the hotel. He had no doubt in the world that Enforcer Harris would take every single being elsewhere. He was just sorry that he hadn't taken time to find a picture of The Enforcer of California. This man looked much too young for the position.

After dabbing at his brow with a snowy white handkerchief, he started changing arrangements He had to notify the owners that he had to give several people comps in order to get them to move, but it was cheaper than having 60 special accommodations walk out. Not to mention the bad public relations. He knew he'd barely averted a major disaster, but he wasn't sure where the trouble would have come from, Master Spike or Enforcer Harris.

.

Spike met Xander at the door, snatched him inside, and proceeded to give him a once over. Xander slapped at his hands without irritation.

"Stop that! I'm fine." He grinned at Spike. "But I don't think the manager will recover anytime soon. I gave him the cold-but-not-yet-pissed look. He wilted like... well, like some really wilty thing." Xander's grin turned a little manic. "I liked it."

"Good, you should like doing your job. And you do a good job, too. Come in and have a drink. I'm knackered from all that riding. I hate it when I can't drive, but it was a good idea to travel during the day. I think."

Xander smirked at Spike. "You know damn good and well that you're so wired right now that you're practically twanging. You sleep or read during the trip so you're rested when we get where ever we're going. So we drove straight through, changing drivers every four hours or so. We could have driven from Vegas, but I took pity on the ones riding in busses, they were really cramped. And why, may I ask was it necessary to travel with 60 assorted demons and humans?"

"Face, pet." Spike handed Xander his rum and coke. "I travel in style. That means bodyguards, cooks, valet, cleaning crew, et al."

Xander nodded his understanding then asked, "Where's Timmins?"

"Putting our sheets on the bed. And our towels in the bathroom, not to mention the shampoo, liquor, and so on."

Xander sighed. "Face again?"

"Yeah. Pain in the arse, but what can I do? I have to set myself up as High Master before I can start making a lot of changes. This is the first step."

"Got it. What do you want from me?" Xander took a sip of his drink.

"Silent, but deadly. It wouldn't hurt for you to smile once in a while, but be on guard. And no one messes with you. I mean it. If one of the other masters tries something, kill 'em. I don't care if it's the High Master himself. I'll just make sure his Dextera takes over for him."

Xander had to laugh, Spike's arrogance never failed to amaze, and amuse, him. He settled back in a comfortable chair and put his feet up, worked on his drink, and listened as Spike talked on the phone.

Spike spent most of an hour on the phone making arrangements to attend the Master of Louisiana's New Orleans court. High Master Robinson was accommodating and polite, as far as Xander could tell. He invited Spike to bring anyone he wanted to court, emphasizing that Xander was more than welcome.

Xander stood up and stretched as Spike hung up his phone. "What should I wear? Leather and weapons, or skin and chains?"

Spike leered at Xander. "I like skin and chains, but leather and weapons is more appropriate."

Xander leered back and replied, "Both could be arranged, one then the other. I'll go see Timmins." He sauntered out of the room, swaying his hips suggestively. Spike watched after him for a moment then shook his head. "I've created a monster, I have. I like it." He grinned to himself for a second then went back to his arrangements. He'd have made Timmins and/or Xander do it, but he was in direct communication with the Master of Louisiana so he was honor bound to take care of it himself.

He headed into the bedroom after Xander. He had to get dressed as well.

Timmins greeted him just inside the room with a sharp, "Shower, no fooling around."

Spike just laughed. "Ok, Ok, no hanky-panky. We'll never get there if we get started messing around."

Timmins gave a little sniff and went to put out clothing to order. Xander watched him leave then started to laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Him. He doesn't disapprove so why the sniff? Doesn't make sense." Xander poured some shampoo into his hair and started to lather it up. His hair was now down to the bottom of his shoulder blades and took a bit of time to wash. And god forbid he forget the conditioner.

"He's not happy with the accommodations. Not up to standards. His, at least." Spike ran some water over his face to wash off the soap he'd washed it with. "And he's in a snit with housekeeping." Xander mumbled something that Spike didn't bother to translate. "Seems he found a dust bunny under the bed."

"Horrors! Run for the hills." Xander stepped out, took a towel off the warmer and started to dry himself.

Timmins sniffed again. "Horrors indeed. This room was filthy, I actually had to have my own cleaning crew do it over again entirely. Disgusting. What do you want to wear?"

Xander thought. "Black spandex tank, leather pants, full weapons harness, and that long-tailed coat with the half cape. Engineer boots, the ones with the steel toes and the pin sheaths. Both swords, the twin Mac 10's, and both my knife sets."

"Very well." Timmins turned to Spike. "And you, sire?"

Spike grinned. "The same minus the hardware, except I want the red tank, and I'll wear my duster."

Timmins smiled, showing fang. "I had assumed so, sire."

Spike was taken aback a bit when he saw the answering vicious smile on Xander's face.

Spike was pleased with the progress he'd made with Xander. Xander was his in all ways that counted, but he'd managed not to spoil the boy; his plans were working out perfectly.

"What are you thinking about with that look on your face?"

Spike turned, kissed Xander, and just said, "Oh, this an' that. Ulterior Motives, don't ya know."

Xander gave him a blank look then went back to getting dressed. Spike followed him, grinning complacently.

.

The Master of Louisiana had the Master of New Orleans at his side when Xander, Spike, Timmins, Bud, and Tara, in that order, entered the room. He waived them forward and watched as the group approached his throne. And it was a throne, a huge gold and green monstrosity that loomed over the dais.

Xander knelt to the dais and rose from his knee at once. Spike nodded while the rest of the group mirrored Xander.

"Master Robinson. You know Xander, my Enforcer; Timmins, my Man, and Bud, my chief body guard. And the lady is Miss Tara, my Mage."

Master Robinson nodded to everyone except Tara; he bowed elegantly to her. "Miss Tara, how are you?"

Tara curtseyed. "Fine, thank you, sir."

The Master of Louisiana pulled his companion forward. "This is the Master of New Orleans, François du Champs." He waived his hand. "And the rest are insignificant. Welcome to my court."

Spike bowed gracefully as he'd been taught as a child and accepted the welcome. He looked around admiring the French Colonial style of the room then realized that it was probably all original. "Very nice."

"Thank you. Oh, I do believe that I have an old friend of yours here. Would you like to see him?"

Xander wondered who Master Robinson was speaking of then remembered Arnold.

Sure enough Arnold was the person. He was brought in on the end of a leash. Xander smirked at him. Arnold had always wanted to be the pet of a Master; now he was, but he didn't look too happy about it. Xander wondered if it was the bit gag, the nipple clamps, the heavy corset, or the hobbles that he was unhappy about. He was also wearing a chastity device that included a sound and a thick butt plug. His arms were folded behind him and each wrist bound to the opposite elbow.

Spike leered at Arnold and asked, "Well, you wanted this position, are you happy?"

Arnold made a squeaky noise then rolled his eyes at his master. High Master Robinson frowned at him and Xander noticed that he nearly cried. As the Las Vegas group watched, Arnold was placed in position on a spanking horse and left there. Spike snorted at what he saw.

Arnold's back and buttocks were covered with welts, no cuts, but he had to be uncomfortable. His neck was raw over the little bump at the back; his collar was just a touch too tight. All in all, he couldn't be enjoying the position he'd craved so much. Spike turned his attention to the matter at hand.

Xander had a longer look and just smiled in a rather nasty way. When he turned back around he noticed that Master François was winking at him. The wink gave him hope for a nice, uncomplicated, peaceful visit.

The court session lasted most of the night and included sitting in on complaints, domain business, and some entertainment.

Xander had sighed at that, expecting some vampiric torture session or some other cruel display. It turned out to be a very Las Vegas-style review with dancers, a male vocalist, and a contortionist. The show lasted about 45 minutes then High Master Robinson dismissed the court, bowed to Spike, smiled at Tara, and left the room via a side door.

Xander looked around them and realized that they were in the middle of a room with about 40 strange beings. It made him feel really uncomfortable. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a door slammed open at one side of the room

A demon standing nearby laughed lightly and said, "Nearly scared the bejezzus out of me the first time, too. He puts on a good spread, but insists that we wait until court is over. Come on, I'll muscle you in."

Xander grinned, but replied, "I better wait on Master Spike. He likes human food, so he'll go first. Right?"

"Oh, if he eats, yes, he'll go first." The demon hurried away and Xander saw him talking to the major domo a few seconds later.

It didn't take long for Spike to be led to the head of the line with the rest of his group right behind him. They moved down the line of the buffet, filling their plates happily. Xander cheated a bit and snitched a charger off a side table. No one said anything and he settled at their table with a soft sigh.

Spike blinked at the pile of food. He was well aware that Xander ate like two lions, but the pile of food on Xander's charger-cum-plate was impressive.

"Bloody hell! Xander, you'll founder."

"Not sure what that is, but I doubt it. I'm starving." Xander dug into his food with a will while Spike shook his head in amusement.

Spike turned his attention to his own plate to find that the food was well prepared with attention to the needs of several different beings. It was nicely spiced, but light on heavily scented spices and herbs. He realized that he'd been neatly guided to foods he'd enjoy. He was sure of that when a fork of linguini was waived in his direction. It was redolent with garlic and basil. It stank to him, but Xander's pleasure was evident.

"Good stuff. I'd like Timmins to talk to his cook."

Xander nodded, mumbling around a mouthful of noodles. "I'll see to it." He swallowed quickly then added, "I'd really like to go into the French Quarter, and Fat City. Do you think we can swing it?"

Spike nodded. "Of course we can. I'll have Timmins do up something. I think we can slip into New Orleans' Underground mostly unnoticed."

Xander smiled happily. "That'd be great. And I want to hear some good jazz." At Spike's doubtful glance, he managed to look offended, for all of two seconds. "What? I like lots of different kinds of music."

"Patsy Cline is not different kinds of music, only different songs." Spike waited for it.

"I only listen to Miss Cline when you're being a butt. I like jazz as long as it's not existential, I can't stand that crap. 'The search for form in formlessness.'" He snorted. "What's that all about? Either there's a tune there, or there's not." He popped a meatball into his mouth defiantly.

Spike thought about that for a moment. "It's pretentious elitism at its best. Give me good ol' Count Basie any time."

Xander agreed with a sharp nod and returned to his food. He tried to think of other places that he'd like to go, but never having bothered much with Louisiana, he couldn't think of much. Except, "I think I'd like to get beignets at the Cafe du Monde, too. I've heard they're great."

Spike snorted. "There's places better and without a ton of tourists; I'll find one. And we have to have Muffulettas and oysters and... we'll have to make a list."

Xander just hummed his agreement around a mouthful of okra.

After they ate, an aide came to show them back to their cars and on their way home. He was a chatterbox so they got an earful.

"I don't think the master's pet is going to last too much longer, do you? He offended his last master and was given away; he's untrained and not taking well to being trained. He fights too much and won't learn. Too bad, he's quite nice actually, as long as you don't turn your back on him. He's a gossip and a back stabber. Master Robinson is very annoyed; he was hoping that having a vamp as a pet would make things a bit easier in the maintenance department."

Xander made a sound suspiciously like a growl. "He's causing trouble still? Just stake him, I'm sure Master Spike won't take offense."

Their escort just shrugged, "He's on punishment right now, but one more misstep and he's either dust or a gift to someone else. Ah! Here's the cars. I'll send a guide with you if you like."

The lead driver refused this with a thanks.

.

Xander settled in his favorite chair on the patio of their hotel. They'd been in town for two days; the entourage had settled in, and things had been organized. Timmins could be a real terror when he wanted to, and he had. Housekeeping crept around in fear of his scorn and the kitchens were under the supervision of their cook when their meals were being made.

Xander nibbled on a beignet and sighed. They were wonderful: light, airy and just sweet enough. The sip of chicory-laced coffee that followed was rich and chocolaty-bitter. He couldn't believe that this fried confection was so god-awful when cold. He also couldn't believe the amount of powdered sugar he got all over himself. It annoyed Timmins no end.

"More coffee, sir?"

Xander nearly choked on his coffee. "Damn it! I swear I'm buying twin bells, one for you and one for Spike. And, no more coffee, thanks." Timmins raised his eyebrow at Xander with a knowing smirk. "And stop that. I want clothing laid out. I'm taking a shower as soon as I finish my coffee. Spike is going to take me to Fat City then the French Quarter tonight. We'll be leaving in about two hours, give or take. Ok?"

Timmins nodded. "Certainly. As soon as I make sure the bathroom is appropriately clean, I'll put out something... comfortable?"

Xander thought for a moment then nodded. "That'll do. But I'd like... stylish, too."

"I have just the outfit. It's also quite capable of hiding a multitude of... sins. If you know what I mean."

Xander did and grinned at Timmins in undisguised delight. "You're a treasure, in case I've never said."

Timmins just swatted Xander on the shoulder and said, "Shower. Go." Xander ambled away to his shower.

Timmins thought for a few moments then put out a nice pair of slacks, slightly looser than was strictly fashionable, a silk t-shirt in a dark brown with a linen button down in bronze to go over it. He also put out a pair of western-style boots with knife sheathes in them. This meant that he had to provide a pair of thick silk socks to protect Xander's skin from the hilts. Then he put out the chocolate brown doe-skin duster that had sewn-in sheathes for Xander's gladius and two knives; it also had loops sewn in under the skirts to hold a wakazashi. If Xander wanted pistols as well, he'd have to wear harness, but the coat was tailored to hide one. Timmins decided that he was glad it was the middle of October, Xander would sweat himself to death otherwise.

Spike wandered in to get dressed and wound up with his trade mark black jeans, black t and red silk button down, left open, and his ever present duster. Only Timmins and Xander knew what he had hidden in its depths.

Xander came out of the bath just as Spike finished dressing. He was rubbing the last of the water out of his hair with a towel, another wrapped around his hips. Spike admired the view with a lecherous leer; Xander leered back.

Timmins put an end to thoughts of what he called funny business by reminding them that they were going to be late for their reservation and the restaurant was popular enough that they wouldn't hold the reservation even for Spike.

Spike scowled, but didn't fool either Xander or Timmins. "Alright, alright, we're going." He grumbled all the way out the door.

Xander ignored Spike in favor of checking out their surroundings. He had a creepy feeling on the back of his neck.

"Xan?" Spike sensed Xander's uneasiness and turned to him. "What is it?"

"Dunno, back of my neck is crawling. Just keep an eye out, Ok?"

"Sure thing, luv. We taking Bud?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, and Miss Tara. They're still courting and Bud can show her a nice time without worrying about anything. That Ok?"

"Yeah, young love is usually boring and annoying, but those two are different. They don't hang all over each other like most young 'uns. Here's the car."

Xander nodded to Bud, who was driving and Tara, sitting next to him in the front. Tara turned around and grinned at them, her laughing, "Oooo, sexy," making Spike laugh and Xander blush.

"Ok, boss, where are we going first?" Bud started the SUV as he spoke. He pulled into traffic and started down the drive. "Fat City, maybe?"

"Sounds good to me, but I want to be in the French Quarter before midnight." Spike leaned against Xander, his smaller frame belying his inherent strength.

"I'll take us to 18th St. then. Do you want to walk around or be chauffeured from place to place?"

Spike wriggled in Xander's embrace and shrugged, making Xander giggle as it tickled him. "I only want to go to three clubs, park as close as you can get then we'll walk from there to the club. We'll drive from one to the other as they're several blocks apart. And you better hurry or we really will miss our reservation."

As they drove Xander noticed that Fat City was looking a bit down at the heels, a thing that made him sad. He'd heard that it was the place to go in New Orleans if you didn't want to brave the French Quarter. Now it seemed that it was not.

When Bud parked in the lot beside the restaurant, Xander gazed at the building with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. The place was mundane in the extreme; in fact, it looked like a greasy spoon. The structure was cinderblocks painted a pink that seemed the color of New Orleans. The front windows were large and covered with slat blinds. It was so common looking that Xander asked Bud if he was sure about the address. Spike assured Xander that this was the place. They exited the SUV and entered the restaurant.

The inside was significantly different to the outside. The décor was plain, but neat and clean. The tables widely spaced and set with gleaming china and crystal. The fact that the rather large space only held 24 tables capable of seating 48 people wasn't missed by anyone in the party.

The maitre d' greeted them urbanely, ignoring their breach of the clothing requirements. None of them were wearing ties, nor even a suit. He led them to a round table which, under normal usage, would have seated eight, but was set for four.

Xander settled at once, but Spike looked around curiously. All the tables were huge, set at least six feet apart and had table settings for four. Spike nodded to the hovering maitre d' then sat down himself.

Their waiter was soft footed, which nearly got him killed when he offered Xander his menu from over Xander's shoulder. Xander flinched and a knife appeared in his hand; Spike's sharp, "No!" was the only thing that kept the waiter alive. Xander flicked his hand, hid his knife and accepted the menu without a flinch.

The waiter handed menus to the rest of the table and they all settled in to choose their meals. Xander read for a moment, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"Um...Spike? There's no prices."

Spike looked up from his menu. "That's right; if you have to ask the price, you can't afford to eat here."

"Oh." Xander went back to his menu, finally deciding on a surf 'n turf, salad, and garlic bread. He left the choice of wine up to Spike.

Tara and Bud settled on the porterhouse for two, with attendant potato and salad. Spike surprised them all by choosing quail in sherry sauce, asparagus, and potatoes Anna. The waiter didn't write it down, well trained to remember who had what.

Spike and Xander discussed their Progression while Bud and Tara frankly canoodled, as Spike called it.

When the food came, it was good, but Xander's lobster was cold. He frowned and summoned the waiter.

"Yes?" His attitude suggested that Xander didn't know how his food should be served.

"This is cold. If I'd wanted cold lobster, I would have ordered it cold. Take it back and have it redone." The waiter sneered and started to remove Xander's plate. Xander stopped him. "Not the whole plate, just the lobster. I'm eating the steak." Xander's grip on the waiter's wrist made him flinch. "Just take the lobster."

"And how would you suggest I carry it?" The waiter looked down his nose at Xander.

Xander just said, "Hold out your hand." The waiter did so and Xander dumped the lobster into his hand. "There. Simple. And I'd suggest that you tell the cook not to pull any stunts with my food either."

Spike just ignored all this and continued to eat. Tara glanced from one to the other, but a pat on the hand from Bud reassured her. She leaned over and whispered, "Are we going to have to leave in a hurry?"

"No, love, Xander won't cause a scene, at least not unless the waiter starts something."

It seemed that the waiter wasn't above trying to cause some trouble for the unconventional group as the manager came over to enquire about their problem.

"I understand that the lobster wasn't up to standard. What was the problem?"

Xander swallowed the bite of steak he was chewing and replied, "It was cold. I didn't order lobster salad, I ordered surf 'n turf. That's hot. So, now what? And you can tell Mr. Snooty that he just sunk his tip."

"I see. If the lobster was cold, and I don't doubt that it was, I apologize. You'll get a comp on the meal and I'll have a word with the waiter. He's usually very competent so I'm not sure what the problem is. I'll find out. Excuse me." The manager disappeared behind a real green baize door.

Spike sighed. "You Ok?"

"Yeah, I just don't like it when I get bad service. The prices we're paying here, I should get my ass kissed, not be told in so many words to kiss his. Wonder what his problem is?"

Spike examined a spear of asparagus. "Mmmm, don't know, but I'll bite him for you, if you like."

"No, you'll just get an upset tummy. He's probably all tough and salty."

"Probably right. Tara? Is your food Ok?" Spike noticed that Tara was nibbling at her steak rather unhappily.

"No, my food is fine. But there's something off here and I can't figure out what."

"Well, finish your dinner then take a little sniff around. Yeah?"

"Ok. But I want cheesecake."

"Right." Spike smiled at Tara who grinned back and returned to her potato.

The manager returned with a frown on his face. "I swear to you that Chef says that lobster was hot when he sent it out. He' has no reason to lie, but I touched it and it's as cold as if it had been refrigerated. My apologies. And the waiter is fired. He just said that he didn't think he needed to serve you appropriately because you were violating the dress code." The manager looked tired. "I don't remember ever telling him we had one. Many of our customers are New Orleans elite and... eccentric. We tend to ignore some rather bizarre dress. I'm very sorry that you were offended. I'll serve you for the rest of the evening myself."

Spike nodded once and poked Xander under the table with his foot. "Fine, fine. But... my radar is going off like crazy." Spike looked up sharply. "I know. But it is. Miss Tara, the second you're done eating, I'd like you to really go over this place good."

Tara nodded around a bite of salad, Bud smiled at her, his fond expression making Xander grin. He stage whispered, "Next stage of courtship coming right up." Bud sent him a glare. Tara giggled.

It didn't take Xander long to be served another lobster and, true to his word, the manager brought it himself. It was hot, juicy, buttery and perfect. Xander started on it quickly. The manager hovered until Xander nodded his approval then left sighing softly. They always had trouble with waiters like that one.

When they all finished their food, Tara stood up and started wandering around the room, feigning interest in the various things hanging on the wall. It didn't take her long to stop at an arrangement of silk flowers with a disgusted expression on her face. She turned to Bud. "Honey, this is just... wrong, for lack of a better name. Take it out, please."

Bud didn't argue, he just took the arrangement off the wall and carried it to the green baize door. He pushed the door open and went through with Tara right after him. The manager followed.

"Excuse me. Is there something offensive about that arrangement?"

Tara just waved at him to follow her and pointed to the alley door. "Out there, please."

Bud just went out the door and put the arrangement on a pile of boxes so that Tara wouldn't have to bend down to examine it.

Tara poked at the arrangement for a moment. "Oh, my, what do we have here?" She pulled a small bag out of the container and looked at it for a second. "My, my. Someone doesn't like you at all. It's a mojo bag. Very bad one, too."

"I see. Um... I think I better call the owner. I'll be right back."

Tara nodded at him absently, but announced. "You better. I can't destroy it without him right here." The manager hurried away. Tara called after him. "And I want my cheesecake."

Xander stuck his head out the door. "Need me?"

Tara shook her head. "Just see that my cheesecake is on the table when I'm done. This sort of thing burns up calories like you wouldn't believe." Xander grunted, pulled his head back, and turned to the pastry chef. "Ok, pal, you heard her."

.

It was nearly twenty minutes later when the owner turned up. He took one look at the little bag and snarled. "Mojo, I hate that shit." He gulped and turned to Tara. "Sorry, ma'am."

" 'S Ok. I'm not too fond of the blacker arts myself. I'll open it now." She opened the bag carefully and dumped the contents onto the top of a box directly under a security light. "I wonder... hummm." She trailed off as she poked at the contents with a dirty straw she'd pulled out of one of the nearby trash cans. "Yes, here. Hair." She nudged it out into plain sight under the light. "Yours?"

The owner shook his head. "No, mine's not that curly. Looks like my son's. Why?"

"I need to know the degree of relation before I can decide if he needs to be here. If it's your biological child, you'll do."

"He's my biological son. What do I do?"

Tara shook her head. "I don't know yet, depends on what else is here. I just hope there's no blood. I hate blood magic." She continued to poke and prod at the bits and pieces, refusing to touch it with her hands.

Tara finally managed to get everything spread out. There was an odd assortment of things; a lock of hair, a piece of silky cloth, a pill bottle full of dirty gray powder, and some bones and feathers.

"Ok, no blood and nothing specific to anyone else. Call Spike and Xander, will you, Bud?"

"Sure thing." Bud went in the building to call the other two members of the group while the owner of Polly's, whose name was Oscar, eyed the mess with a jaundiced and unhappy eye.

Spike swaggered out the back door with Xander on his heels. "Miss Tara, you wanted me?"

Tara nodded. "If you'll stand here, as anchor. Xander, there, secondary anchor, and Bud here, tertiary anchor. Mr. Oscar, there and I'll stand here." She arranged them in a triangular pattern, Bud behind her with Spike to her right and on the other side of the box. Xander took a similar position to her left with Oscar between them and inside the triangle with Tara. "Good."

Tara started to put out some things she extracted from her huge purse. She put a small copper dish on the box and poured some fluid into it. The smell let Spike know that it was lighter fluid. She lit it and started chanting. As she chanted she tossed the various things into the dish where they burned merrily. The last thing she put in was the lock of hair, which burned with a stench and a cloud of dark gray smoke. Tara nodded her head once. "There. Where's my dessert?"

Oscar looked confused. "That's it? That's all it takes?"

Tara shrugged. "Yup. That's it. You better find out who hates you that much, though."

He shrugged. "I know. My ex-wife. She hung that on the wall about three days after the divorce was final. I don't know why she'd want to harm our son, but I'll find out."

"Oh, she didn't want to harm him; she just used the hair as an anchor for the mojo. His DNA is half yours, you see."

"Ah, Ok. She's pissed that I got the place instead of her. I don't know why she thinks she should get it; she never wanted to have anything to do with it before the divorce."

"Sour grapes. You need to take care of your business. Have the place blessed, put out salt dishes and so on." Tara finished putting her apparatus away. "Where's my cheesecake?"

Spike gave Tara a sharp look, squinting slightly, but he refrained from comment.

They sat back at their table, finished their dessert, and Spike called for the check.

"No check. Mr. Oscar said it is all on the house. Have a nice evening." The manager walked away and left them to leave.

Bud gave Tara his arm and escorted her to the SUV. Spike and Xander followed exchanging wry, amused looks.

"Ok, here we go, French Quarter it is."


	36. Chapter 36

ULTERIOR MOTIVES

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: 36/?

Word count: 7713

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language,

Parings: Spike/Xander

Beta: aayesha_r (due to last minute rewriting, all remaining mistakes are mine.)

Thanks to cluegirl, yohjideranged, and bumpkin for the help with the clubs

.

Bud parked in the parking garage and announced flatly, "Sorry, Boss, but there's no way for me to drive you from one club to another. The traffic is awful."

Spike pitched his cigarette out the window then agreed, "Awful doesn't begin to describe it."

Bud sighed and asked, "Should I stay with the SUV?" This question wasn't as off base as it seemed. It wasn't that unusual for people to come back to find their vehicle either gone or stripped down to the frame.

"No, I'd rather you come with. Miss Tara needs an escort and if the SUV gets stripped or something...." Spike shrugged. "I'll just tell Master Robinson, and he'll replace it. Come on."

So they headed out into the French Quarter. Since the parking garage was at one end of the tourist section of Bourbon Street, they just walked out the door and started down one side of the street. Spike knew where the club he wanted to visit was and grumbled a bit; it was nearly four blocks. Xander just thumped his shoulder and told him cheerfully to 'man up'.

During the walk, Tara stayed close to Bud, but Xander ranged from one side of the street to the other. He looked in windows and slipped into a store or two. He came back from one of his forays to ask, "Where are we going first?"

Tara jumped in with, "Can we see Preservation House?"

Spike checked the address then said, "Up this way at St. Peter's Street. But it's no use this late; the place will be packed and we'll never get inside. Unless you want to pull rank."

Tara looked disappointed, but shook her head. "We don't need the attention." She looked around, confused, "Is every building pink?"

Spike laughed, "Just about. We can cut through this alley and stand outside for a bit. Would you like that?"

Tara thought for a moment. "I really just want to hear the music."

Spike eased Xander between Tara and a group of drunken college boys. Bud moved to back him up.

After glancing around, Xander noted that Pat O'Brien's was right across the street from Preservation Hall. Then he saw something that made him snicker. "Reverend Zombie's House of Voodoo, you're kidding me, right?"

Tara smiled, "Madame Marie LeVeau's House. No, not kidding. But it's mainly a tourist trap now. Too bad."

Spike shook his head. "Mojo is not on my list tonight. It's really about visiting some of the old places I went to last time I was here."

"With Drusilla." Xander couldn't keep a touch of jealousy out of his voice.

"Naw, she dumped me for about six years around 1840. I came here because I don't like Galveston. I used to hang around in the Old Absinthe House and the Napoleon House. The Bombay Club in the Prince Conti Hotel was also a favorite, but not by that name. And Lafitte's Tavern wasn't too bad. Those are the places I want to visit. We'll just walk around and rubberneck, unless someone has a better idea?"

The consensus was that walking was a good idea. No one had worn uncomfortable shoes, not even Tara, so that was what they did. Spike settled the route as he was familiar with the area, even if the familiarity was some 150 years old. Things hadn't changed all that much.

Spike looked around again to orient himself. "Ok, we'll backtrack a bit as I want to wind up at Lafitte's. First... um... Napoleon House. I think you'll all like it. It's a bit posh, but the ambiance is something. Then the Absinthe House, just for a while, very artsy-fartsy in my day. But the absinthe was to die for, literally in some cases. They changed the name a while ago, think it's like Tony Moran's or sommat. Then the Bombay Club, they've got a hundred and some different kinds of martini. We'll be underground before dawn."

So they turned back and walked back down Bourbon Street to Napoleon House. Bud hung back a bit and attracted Xander's attention. Xander dropped back to walk beside him while Spike regaled Tara with stories of the different places they walked past.

"How bad is this going to get?"

Xander shrugged. "Not sure. Depends on how bad he was way back then. The worse he felt then the worse it's going to be now. Just stay on your toes."

"Ok, gotcha." Bud sighed; sometimes it was a real bitch being honor bound to a vampire.

Tara was thrilled with the old hotel and dragged a long suffering Bud into as much of it as she could. Xander and Spike settled in the courtyard with a Pimm's Cup and waited for the twosome to come back. It didn't take long for them to return, Tara smiling and chattering about all the wonderful points of the decor, Bud doing his best not to look bored out of his mind.

Spike got up and ambled off, Xander at his heels. He'd seen what he wanted to, and now he wanted to move on. He was already beginning to regret this little trip down memory lane.

The next stop was the Absinthe House. They peeked into the Bistro, but one look told all of them that it was too grand and fussy for their mood although they admired the décor which was authentic to the age of the structure, the 1807 fireplace being a set piece. Spike remarked that it was all 'period', and he wasn't thrilled with that particular style the first time around.

They went upstairs to Tony Moran's and glanced around, but when a waiter came to seat them Spike just shook his head and said, "Came to show the lady the bar. That's Ok, yeah?"

The waiter just smiled and nodded. "Lots of people come just for that. If you want to leave your dollar, I'll be happy to put them up. We don't let customers do it themselves anymore, too many drunks fell. Take your time and look around; just please don't disturb the diners."

Spike nodded. "Lady probably will want to leave a dollar. We'll leave it with the bar keep. Thanks."

Tara signed a dollar that she begged off Xander and gave it to the bartender who ostentatiously tucked it into a box behind the bar, making sure that they saw him do so. Tara blinked then glanced at Spike who just mouthed, 'explain later'.

Xander demanded to go to Lafitte's bar downstairs for a Frappe. Spike made a face, but agreed. He knew that regular doses of his blood had made Xander astonishingly hard headed so mixing his drinks wasn't going to be a problem. Bud, being a demon, no matter that he looked human enough, metabolized alcohol of any kind as fast as Spike did.

So they settled at a table and watched as the bartender mixed their drinks. The yellow-green color made Spike snicker, but Tara gave her drink a doubtful drink. After one dainty sip she shuddered and exclaimed, "Ugh! Licorice, I don't like licorice. That's awful."

Spike, who'd already finished his drink, just reached over and snagged it. "Don't worry, pet. I'll drink it. Reminds me of the old absinthe, can't get that in the US anymore."

Xander blinked, "You mean that this isn't a real absinthe frappe? What's in it then?"

Spike took a sip and rolled it around in his mouth. From the taste of it, Anisette, Herbsaint, and a bit of sugar, soda water, ice. Dump it all in a pitcher, muddle and strain. Frappe. It's as real as a heart attack. This recipe is the Absinthe House signature drink. Not bad actually."

Tara watched as all three 'men' drank their drinks; she'd decided that she wasn't drinking anything else alcoholic that night. So far her taste of Pimm's Cup had been disappointing, and the Frappe downright disgusting. She was idly wishing for a soda when a voice behind her drawled, "Well, well, if it isn't... what is it now?... Spike? Yes, that's it. So much more... sibilant than William the Bloody, but not as descriptive. What have you been doing with yourself lately, and who is this yummy looking bint?"

Spike just glanced at the vampire, a mocking look that belittled him easily. "Yeah, it's Spike now. Became Master of California and the Hellmouth. And she's; one, not a bint, and two, my business. As to yummy, wouldn't try, if I was you. Don't need to run afoul of me, the Enforcer, and that one." He indicated first Xander then Bud. "Like your suit. Last decade's Armani, isn't it? Finances on the ebb again? Always were a sucker for a hand of whist, weren't you?"

The nameless vampire hissed and stalked away.

Tara made with the big eyes and whispered, "Who was that?"

Spike didn't bother to keep his voice down when he replied, "That stupid sod is Lucius St Cloud. Lost his family fortune at whist in the late 1700's and tried to commit suicide. Got vamped instead. Idiot. Annoying, and stupid. The only reason he's still alive, or undead, is pure luck, and Remy fell for his golden hair and blue eyes. Twit." He didn't bother to explain who Remy was, and no one felt interested enough to inquire.

Xander finished his drink and announced, "I'm bored; let's move on. Ok?"

Spike just grinned, announced, "That's my boy," and headed for the door. Tara and Bud had a bit of a scramble to keep up, but Tara poked Bud in the ribs and snickered. Bud noticed what she was laughing about and smiled. Xander was walking, or rather strutting, half a step behind Spike and to his left. If you didn't know better, you'd think they were related. They stood alike, walked alike, and mirrored each other without thought.

Bud hugged Tara then asked, "Where to now? The Bom... something?"

"Bombay Club. Martinis." Xander tossed over his shoulder. Spike just mumbled, "Damn straight." and led the way out of the building.

Xander wondered what Spike was searching for because, obviously, he was. And not finding it, if his growing sour mood was any indication.

They walked side-by-side now, crowding people off the sidewalk. Spike's jittery, nervous behavior was making them nervous, too. He was going to snap, Xander feared, and there was going to be a fight. Xander and Bud knew this as sure as breathing. Tara wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew she didn't like it. But she knew that people were stepping into the street to avoid a small blond tornado in a black coat.

They reached the Bombay Club with little trouble, the short jaunt down the side street leading them away from the noise and confusion of Bourbon Street into a much quieter area. Tara sighed her relief; she wasn't comfortable in crowds even with Bud by her side.

They entered the club with its British Colonial-style furnishings and elegant air, Spike just sighed. "I remember this. It really hasn't changed very much. Still looks like a gentlemen's club. One of those ones that the remittance men all haunted. But they make good drinks. In the old days it was all wine, mulled and what not, or a mint julep, rum, mulled, buttered, or straight. Nothing as fancy as this. All this British Wallah decor, Dru would have hated it, but I..." Spike grinned unabashed. "I admit that I like it. Comfortable, that's what it is."

As Spike was speaking, they made their way to the table/booth at the end of the bar. Spike settled in on the bench seat against the wall and Xander slid into the other side. Tara took the seat with her back to the room and Bud took the one on the end nearest Spike; that left one more seat open.

The waiter came over and asked what they'd like to drink. Xander decided on a sour-apple martini, at which Spike grimaced. Bud asked for a 007, and Tara wanted a crantini. Spike just shrugged and said, "Stolnycha, frozen, twist of lemon, and just yell vermouth at it."

Bud turned to Tara. "Sweet, I thought you weren't going to drink any more."

"Changed my mind. This place is nice and I feel more comfortable." Tara's sweet smile got returns from the three men, and they settled in for a quiet drink or two.

The waiter returned with their drinks and Xander promptly ate his apple slice while Tara distastefully picked the candied orange out of hers.

She just snorted and remarked, "I thought it was supposed to be just orange, not candied." Bud glanced around for the waiter. "It's Ok, sweetie, I just picked it out. My drink is fine. Don't fuss."

Bud smiled at her. "That's my job. Fussing and protecting."

Spike made a gagging noise which got him a poke in the ribs from Xander.

"Shut it, you." Spike smirked at Xander who pouted back.

Tara poked Bud who just patted her hand and winked.

They finished their drinks, taking their time and enjoying the atmosphere of the Bombay Club. Their conversation drifted from one topic to another, led by a still jittery Spike. Xander kept touching him on the arm, the shoulder, the thigh, trying to calm him. It was helping, but not much. Xander, Bud and Tara were all worried about him. Something was going on with him that no one could figure out. He shouldn't be this nervous about a visit to the French Quarter.

Spike had all he could do to avoid nervously jerking one leg. He'd been broken of the habit before it really got started; his mother would just pat his thigh and shake her head at him. Then Angelus had finished the job with a fierce beating the one time he'd forgotten. Now, his nerves were on edge so badly that he wanted to scream.

Xander stood up, tossed some money on the table and announced, "Ok, I'm done with this crap. Where the hell do you really want to go, Spike? I'm tired of feeling you twanging like a bow string."

Spike sighed and stood up, too. "Sorry, luv, I'm just... I need to go into Under-New Orleans, and I know there's going to be a problem. I don't want to take Miss Tara down, but I think we might need Bud. And her, too. It's settin' my nerves on edge."

Bud shrugged. "Missy? You wanna go or stay?"

Tara bit at her lip for a moment. "I think I better not. If I'd known you might need magic, I wouldn't have had anything to drink. Mojo and booze? Very unmixy things. I'll catch a cab back to the hotel."

Bud considered this for a moment. "I think that's a good idea. If we need you we'll send for you." He turned to Spike. "I'd like to wait until she's actually in the cab."

Spike nodded. "Fine. I think I'll get the concierge to call one." He turned, realized that Xander wasn't behind him and hissed softly. Before he could really get started Xander walked back to the group.

"I just called a cab for Tara. We need her, we can send for her. Let's wait outside for it. Ok?"

He flicked his gaze from a snickering Spike to a giggling Tara. "Ok, what?" His flat tone made Bud snort.

Tara answered, "You and Spike are starting to think alike."

"Scary thought." Xander shook his head. "Cab should be here fairly quickly, we better get outside."

They went out and stood on the curb until the cab pulled up. The doorman hurried to open the door for Tara, but some suit tried to bull his way in front of her. He found himself facing a smiling Xander.

"Sorry, buddy, that cab is for the lady." Xander took a step forward.

"I don't see her name on it. Step aside." He tried to shove around Xander and wound up with Spike in his face.

"Man said the cab was for the lady." Spike's dress and mild tone of voice fooled the man into making the worst mistake of his life. He laid hands on Spike; putting his hand on Spike's shoulder, he tried to push him away. Pushing a vampire is somewhat like pushing a brick wall so this did nothing but annoy both Spike and Xander.

This got the nuisance lifted by both arms, Xander on one side and Spike on the other, and more or less tossed out of the way. Bud calmly waived the doorman away and helped Tara into the cab himself. He gave her a quick kiss, shut the door, and banged on the top of the cab. It pulled away as the three waved.

"Well, that was interesting. When did manners get so bad?"

Xander snorted at Spike. "This from the vampire that ate the last waiter that was rude to him."

"Did not!" Spike was all indignation. "He was much too salty for me. Just bit him a little."

Xander glanced around for their annoying 'friend', but couldn't see him, nor the doorman. He made a mental note to send a tip to the man for keeping the cops out of the picture.

.

Xander put his hand on Bud's shoulder. "You Ok?"

Bud nodded. "Yeah, I actually feel better now than I did half an hour ago."

Xander sighed. "That was a long walk. I never thought a street could manage to hold that many pedestrians, trucks, cars, and whatever else, without an accident. Incredible."

Bud nodded to Spike. "He's getting worse instead of better. What's going on with him?"

Xander shook his head then grumbled, "I don't know. Be ready for anything. He's looking for something or someone. Some sign maybe. Just... I don't know... be ready."

"Ok. Wonder if the Old One is still around? If she is, we might be able to get her to figure it out. Not like Spike to be this agitated and not kill something."

Xander bit at his lip for a moment. "Can't kill anything. Not his territory. May be what's got him on edge."

Bud just grunted, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

They were standing in front of Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop which was actually now a bar. The sign on the wall stated that it had been established in 1772 as a smithy and converted into a tavern in the 1840's. Spike looked at the front of the inconspicuous building for a few moments then motioned for them to follow as he headed for the door.

Xander glanced around as the soothing sounds of mellow jazz drifted from the front, played by a live pianist. The bar was old, worn, and a bit frayed around the edges. It was also charming, low key, and quite pleasant. The dim lighting was all provided by candles with a few lamps in the corners of the bar and one at the top of a flight of stairs that was nearly hidden in the back.

Spike nodded to the bartender and made a bee line for those stairs. Bud and Xander trooped along behind him, glancing around as they went. Xander was a bit sad that they wouldn't get to stay awhile to listen to the music.

At the bottom of the steps, the tunnel led away from the bar and farther into the earth. Xander sniffed then wrinkled his nose. The place smelled of sewers.

"Sewers! I hate sewers." Bud wrinkled his nose, too.

Spike shushed them impatiently and strode into the darkness. Xander and Bud followed, walking shoulder to shoulder. Xander's hands itched for the feel of the haft of his gladius.

It didn't take them long to reach gates that completely blocked the tunnel. The guard took one look at Spike, did a double take then opened the small sally port without a word. Spike strode through it, ignoring the guard completely. Xander glanced at him then stepped through the door, too. Bud made a face and followed. Maybe now they'd find out what was wrong with Spike. And maybe not.

They entered a near duplicate of Lafitte's except more than half of the clientele was demon. Xander sighed. He was not looking forward to this; the back of his neck was really crawling now.

Spike wove his way through the packed room with ease. Demons moved out of his way like wheat before a scythe. Xander and Bud followed close behind, not realizing that their presence was part of the reason for the ease of their passing. Demons took one look at Spike, a high master vampire backed by his two scowling bodyguards, and parted like the Red Sea. Xander and Bud's fearsome reputations had preceded them.

They eased into the back and down another flight of stairs into a lower level.

This level was still finished nicely with polished walls and smooth, even floors. The corridor that disappeared into the distance was lined with doors, spaced unevenly down its length on both sides. Xander looked at one nearby and realized that the doors opened into shops, clubs, and other public places. Each door had a sign on or over it with a name on it.

Spike strode along the corridor, glancing at door after door. They were nearly to the end of the corridor before he found what he was looking for.

A quick tap on the door elicited a "Come in." Spike turned to Xander and Bud. "Wait here. It won't take long."

Spike opened the door and entered the darkened room. She was there, the Old One, the oldest vampire on the American continent. She sat in a simple straight-backed chair behind a round table looking like the gypsy she was.

"Ah, yes, William. I knew you would come. Just not when." She watched him carefully for a few moments. "You are unhappy, so you have come to me again."

Spike waited under the Old One's gaze. The vampire had to be all of 800 years old, probably much older, but she hadn't endured the changes that many very old vampires did. Changes that made them into monsters even when they hadn't 'changed'. She still looked like a girl of 18 or so, just as she had in life. Spike wondered why.

"You wonder why I look as I do." She smiled a bit flirtatiously. "Don't deny it." She looked at Spike for a moment more. "I see that you do not. That is good. I am as I am because I still have my soul and also, I don't kill. It is the greed and killing that allow the demon to come to the fore and change your appearance. I think the killing is more important than the soul. We do not, as so many poets claim, love with our soul or our heart. We love with our brain. And you love. I can see it."

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, I do. That's what I've come for. I love and he's mine. But there's a thrall spell on him, cast by an inexperienced, but very powerful, witch. I want it removed. I want him... free." The Old One raised an eyebrow at this. "If something were to happen to me, one of my seconds would see that he was safe. But right now, he'll die. I don't want that."

"And so you wish to free him from the spell? That is good. Drink tea with me."

Spike started to refuse, but realized that her request wasn't an invitation, but a command. He accepted the tea with the best grace he could. When he was finished the Old One held out her hand for his cup. Spike sighed and handed it over; he should have known she would read the leaves for him, he just hoped she didn't drag out the cards, or worse yet runes.

"Yes, I know you consider this all foolishness, but humor me. And no runes or cards, I promise." She twinkled at him, fluttering her eyelashes and smiling slyly then returned to the leaves. "Well, I see. You don't have to worry about the thrall. I see it is fading. You should let it fade naturally, as poorly cast magic usually does." She nodded decisively. "I would like to meet your man."

Spike just stood up, trying very hard to keep any expression off his face. The thrall was fading? He felt a relief he hadn't known he would. Xander would be safe if something happened to him. He got up and walked to the door, opened it, and called Xander into the room.

Xander entered and stood just inside the door waiting for Spike to tell him what to do.

"Come sit at my side, lovely." The Old One patted a chair beside her.

Xander glanced at Spike who nodded. He settled in the indicated chair and waited.

"Hummmm. Yes, you smell of cinnamon, and salt. Tea." She handed Xander a cup which he gulped quickly. Spike sighed, that was no way to treat good tea, but Xander was obviously nervous.

The Old One took his cup and looked at it. "Yes, yes, very good. You have a wonderful future in store for you. Your loyalty will be greatly rewarded."

Xander nodded, his puzzlement evident. "Ok, that's good. Thanks."

This was greeted with a light laugh that Xander couldn't help but echo. "Yes, it is good. I see a long life and much happiness for you. You are fierce and brave, loyal and funny. High Master Spike needs all these things very much. You will provide them. In return ..." She gave a mysterious smile. "He will grant you many things. Your heart's desire most of all. Now, go. I am tired." She waived Xander away with another smile.

Spike gathered Xander up and towed him to the door; he turned and started to thank the seer when she spoke again. "Your little Miss Tara is a perfect seer; you didn't need to come to me. I am glad to see you again however, to give you better news than the last time. Cherish him. Go."

So they went. Spike walked out the door with Xander on his heels. Bud joined up, and they headed back the way they came.

Xander sighed. "What was that all about?" Spike just shrugged; he wasn't about to explain. Xander eyed him for a minute then dropped the subject, turning to something that was more pressing to him. "I really wanted to listen to some good jazz before we left New Orleans. When do we head out?"

Spike shrugged again. "I did what I came to do. I saw all the old places. Talked to the pretty gypsy. We need to leave soon so that we don't wear out our welcome. Day after tomorrow, maybe."

Bud stopped dead in the corridor. "Listen. Music."

Spike stopped, too. "I hear it. It's coming from... there." Spike pointed to a door. "Want to go in and see?"

Xander nodded. "Yeah, sounds good to me. Really good."

Bud tapped on the door which opened a crack at once. "Members only?" Bud's question was answered when the door opened fully to allow them entry.

"Door charge is $15 per." The large orange demon held out a hand the size of a plate. Bud just handed over a fifty and told it to keep the change.

The music was just loud enough; they could talk over it, but still not disturb others, as long as they kept their voices down. Surprisingly, Spike was careful to keep his low.

They took a moment to survey the club. It was small, cluttered with small round tables, each with four chairs and crowded to the max. A few chairs were still available but only because the help was adding tables as customers entered. The dance floor was even taken up with seating. It didn't take them long to be directed to seats against one wall, near the middle. Spike watched as Xander sat, he lounged in the graceful, self-confident posture of a powerful man who knew what he was capable of and was comfortable with it. Spike couldn't suppress his smirk.

"What's that for?" Xander eyed Spike for a second then turned back to the music.

Spike took a seat behind Xander with his back to the wall. He didn't care that he couldn't see the stage; one jazz band looked very like another, unless you were a horn and tentacle counter. He was happy that they'd managed to find some jazz for Xander and that was that.

They listened through one set and part way into the next before anything happened. Then some new customer took exception to a 'pet' sitting on the furniture. He was drunk, which was his only excuse, but he put his hands on Xander.

Spike hissed softly, drawing back one hand to strike at the demon. He was too late to prevent it from dragging Xander out of his chair. Xander stumbled when the demon let go of him, but just a bit. He smoothly recovered his balance and dropped into a defensive stance and prepared to defend himself.

He didn't need to; Spike roared like a scalded tiger and jumped the demon. "No one touches him!" Xander wisely got out of the way, crowding Bud into a small niche and jamming himself in beside him. "Ok, so not good. We're going to get thrown out of New Orleans, never mind the Undercity."

Bud just grunted, Xander's elbow was digging him in the ribs.

Spike hammered on the demon, who fought back. This was not a fight of finesse; it was brute strength, fang and claw. The patrons of the club scattered, leaving by any door they could reach, and there were more than it appeared.

The demon roared and flailed its arms as Spike took a bite out of its ear. Since he was vamped, it was most of the ear. It really didn't do to have long floppy ears in a fight with Spike. The demon managed to get hold of the back of Spike's coat and threw him into a wall. Spike bounced off with a grunt, but managed to keep his feet.

Xander sighed, crossed his arms over his chest and settled one ankle over the other. "I wish he wouldn't do that."

Bud grunted, leaning in the same way against the other side of the niche and slightly behind Xander. There wasn't enough room for them to stand side-by-side. "You know he likes to play with his kill first. Leave him alone."

While Bud and Xander had been talking, Spike had been hammering on his opponent. An opponent who was sadly overmatched, no matter that he was nearly twice Spike's size. Spike was not the oldest vampire around, even in New Orleans, but he was one of the strongest. He was turned by Drusilla, but mastered and sired by Angelus. He had blood he didn't have to fight for and a Companion who was his equal. All this made him very powerful.

Right now he was using this power to demolish the demon who'd dared to touch what was his. The demon knew it was in trouble; the fact that Spike was doing his best to tear off the ear he'd taken a bite out of was a really big clue. It snatched at Spike, but lost its grip; sometime during the fight Spike had broken several of its fingers.

Xander and Bud watched the fury with interest. Xander commented, "Spike really seems pissed."

Bud replied, "Yeah, that idiot touched his Claimed."

"I thought I was a Companion."

"Claimed, Companion what's the difference? Same thing when it comes to insult. Besides, you're well on your way to being a Consort."

Xander just grunted, "Oh... 'k." and went back to watching.

But the fight was almost over; the demon was weakly kicking its legs and scrabbling its claws on the floor. Spike was strangling it, happily indulging his craving for mayhem.

Xander pointed to four bouncers who were approaching Spike. "We better get out there. If he mangles the help, people aren't going to be happy."

Bud lunged up from his hip shot against the wall stance and headed for the bouncers. Xander followed, but veered off to see if he couldn't get Spike to lay off.

"Spike, come on, he's out of it. There's bouncers here. Spike!" Spike wasn't letting up, and Xander didn't want him to get into a fight with the bouncers as well; that would be an insult to Master Robinson. He grabbed at Spike again and nearly got himself smacked. Spike managed to pull up just in time.

"What the hell? Xander, you're going to get it later. What are you thinking?" Spike shook his head, shaking off his fury as well as his war face.

"I'm thinking that you're getting ready to insult our host in a way he can't ignore. Punish me later, leave now. Come on." Xander grabbed Spike again, and this time Spike cooperated.

Xander left Bud to make excuses, apologies, or what ever was called for. He took Spike out into the long corridor and looked for a private place for him to calm down in. One of the bouncers obviously knew what he needed and just pointed to a door down the way a bit and said, "In there. Take your time. I'll stand outside."

Xander dragged Spike into the well appointed room and realized that it was a private scene or play room. It was attached to a club, and this was the private exit.

"Well, looks like we've got the perfect place for my punishment." Xander hugged Spike then pushed him away a bit.

Spike snorted. "You know damn good and well that I'm not gonna do anything much to you. Idiot. I could have really hurt you."

"But you didn't. You've got better control than that. Come here."

Spike sidled back up to Xander smiling coyly. "An' what are ya gonna do?"

"You're evil. Stop that. Going all coy and stuff."

Spike nipped at Xander's chin, blunt, human teeth making no mark. " 'M not coy. 'M evil."

Xander just kissed Spike silent. He ground his pelvis into Spike's groin, and they both groaned.

"Damn it, luv. Unless you want to get fucked right here, stop that." Spike ground back.

Xander just started stripping Spike who didn't protest much, only wriggling his shoulders to help Xander get his shirt off, and then his hips as his jeans caught on his erect dick.

"Oh, my god. Do you know how hot I get just looking at you?" Xander stepped back a bit to look his fill. "You never let me look. It's all rush, rush, rush, not that I'm complaining exactly."

Spike just looked back. Xander was right; they were usually in so much of a rush to get to business that they didn't take time to appreciate each other. Spike took a moment to really look at Xander. The boy had developed into a deep-chested, narrow-hipped man whose broad shoulders and powerful arms and legs told the story of hours and hours spent in a dojo and at hard physical labor. Xander moved like a panther, all powerful muscles under sleek skin. He realized that he needed to get Xander a new collar, his was just about too small and that wouldn't do.

Xander also took time to look. Spike hadn't changed much. He was still slender, whipcord lean and tight; tight abs, tight gluts, tight everywhere. His bleached blond hair was still as sleek as ever, but it seemed thicker somehow. And he was more than twice as strong as before. Regular blood supply and less stress, despite what he might claim, had led to his improved physical state. Xander found that he liked what he saw very much.

Xander gathered the smaller man into his arms and hugged him close. "Spike, master, what's wrong? You've been really nervous all night. Is there something I can do?"

Spike leaned into the hug. Sometimes all he wanted was to be able to let go for a moment, just a moment. "I'm Ok. Just had something that was worrying me. Lady cleared that one up, now I just need to let off some steam. Fight helped."

"Well, a good fuck should finish the job then."

Spike nibbled at Xander's neck. "Don't talk like that. Not about us."

"Ok, then what is it we do?"

"Not sure. Make love? Too sappy for me. Screw? Granted you're a carpenter, but I'm not a piece of wood."

Xander chuckled into Spike's cheek. "Ok, so we don't fuck, make love, or screw. There's a lot of other things to call it, most of them either crude or clinical. Let's get a thesaurus and look them all up. I'm sure you can find something that doesn't offend your Victorian sensibilities." The laughter in his voice made Spike poke him in the stomach.

"Stop that, this is really serious. And Vicky was a straight laced old broad, even when she was young. Now."

"How about you stop yapping and we bump uglies?"

Spike snarled softly, but with little threat. "That's the worst yet."

Xander snickered then said softly, "Maybe we should stop talking then."

Spike suddenly realized something, "Oi! How come I'm naked and you're not?"

"Was waiting for you to rectify the situation. Glad you finally noticed." Xander smirked at Spike in a totally unrepentant way, which made Spike start stripping him.

"Jesus Christ! You must have... what's this?" As Spike stripped Xander, he piled his weapons on a small table. "Fuck." Xander just grinned. "I know, I know. I see you put them up every day, but... I just never realized really."

Xander grinned as he stood in nothing but his collar. "So, I'm a paranoid asshole. Deal."

Spike just kissed Xander, nipping at his lips until he opened his mouth. The resultant tongue tangle left them both breathless; panting, Xander pushed Spike in the general direction of the nearest flat surface.

They tumbled onto the futon with a thump and laughed when the frame didn't survive the impact. There had been other places for them to occupy, but none of them were of interest: the spanking bench was too narrow, the sling too high, and neither one of them was interested in doing anything standing up. They pulled the cotton mattress off the broken frame and stretched out on it on the floor.

"Mmmm. Like this." Xander ran a hand over Spike's chest, pinching one nipple.

"Oi!" Spike protest was half hearted at best as he was running one hand over Xander's chest and trying to wriggle the other under him. They'd rolled over several times and Spike had gotten on top of Xander, so now he was trying to get one hand under him for obvious reasons.

"If you insist." Xander rolled them again then flipped onto his back beside Spike, allowing them both to touch where they wished.

It was a slow heat up; Xander stroked and petted Spike while Spike did the same to him. They touched and stroked each other until Xander couldn't stand it anymore. He lifted his legs and pulled his knees to his chest. "Spike, if you don't do something right now, I'm gonna blow on my own."

Spike just laughed and helped himself to a small bottle of lube from the table nearby. "Mmmm, coconut." He popped the top open and squeezed, but nothing happened, it was still sealed. Completely undaunted, he bit the bottom out of it and slathered the contents over himself and Xander.

Xander yelped as the cold stuff was smeared from his throbbing erection to his anus. "Damn it! That shit's cold!"

Spike leered at Xander. "A little friction will heat it up."

Xander grumbled, "Evil, undead, cold-blooded..." then moaned as Spike moved between his legs and slipped into him in one smooth, firm stroke. "Oh, mu' god!"

Spike pulled out and did it again hitting Xander's prostate. He whimpered and grabbed at Spike's shoulders. "Contrary to popular belief, I won't break. Damn it, harder."

Spike stroked harder, bumping Xander's prostate every other stroke. In any other man, this would have been painful after only a few moments, for Xander it just increased his enjoyment. Immensely. Spike sped up and Xander groaned. It felt so very good.

"Blast, luv, I'm not gonna last. Sorry." Spike howled his release. Xander replied with a cry of his own as they climaxed almost together.

Spike collapsed against Xander who hugged him close.

"Sorry about that. Way too fast."

Xander snorted. "It was good. We were both too tense to last long. Rest."

So they rested, until someone knocked on the inside door. Spike gave Xander a big eyed look that made him laugh.

"How the hell did we get into this room?"

Xander rolled his head on the futon. "No idea. Luck? Magic? Someone forgot to lock the door? Don't care. Just pay the fucker and let's get cleaned up."

Spike sauntered over to open the door and snarl in the knocker's face, "What!"

"Um... sir? I'm sorry, sir, but there's a fee for the room. It should have been paid up front, but... um... could you pay it now, please?"

Spike gave a jerky nod and turned to glare at a hysterically laughing Xander. "Stop that, you." He slammed the door in the demon's face.

Xander just laughed harder. Spike finally opened the attached bathroom door, turned on the shower, and returned to the futon. He pulled Xander into a standing position, jammed his shoulder in Xander's stomach making him 'oof', and strode to the running shower.

He dumped Xander into the brisk stream of water and snickered when Xander yelped. He hadn't left it ice cold, but it was still decidedly chilly.

"Asshole!"

Spike just adjusted the temperature and stepped in in front of Xander.

"Nice, now you get all the hot water."

"Whiner."

Spike just started washing himself.

Xander helped then started to wash himself, Spike helped, but wound up fondling Xander more than really washing him. Xander finally slapped his hands away and finished while Spike snickered.

Xander stepped out of the shower and took the towel Spike handed him. He sighed; he really didn't want to put the same underwear back on. His clothing was still clean, but he just had a thing about underwear.

"What? You hurt? You need something?" Spike gave him a concerned look.

Xander just shook his head. "Clean underwear." Spike gave him blank face. "I'm not hurting. That's fine. I just hate putting on underwear that I've already worn."

Spike nodded. "Ok, clean underwear." He just tossed on his clothes and left. Xander wrapped the towel around his waist and wandered out into the outer room.

Spike opened the door the demon had tapped on and glanced out. The same demon was sitting on a small stool across the hallway. "Oi, you! Y-fronts size 34. And the tab. Go." The demon just nodded and trotted off.

Spike returned to the room and glanced around. It was well appointed and at one time would have been more than attractive to Spike, now he found it overdone, underwhelming, and slightly silly.

Xander was crouched, towel wrapped firmly around his waist, trying to fix the futon frame.

"Forget that crap. I'll pay for it and be done with it. Sit down. Relax." Spike wandered over to the mini-bar and poked around for a moment. "Morgan and coke?" Spike held up the tiny bottle of liquor.

Xander snorted. "At those prices? Don't think so. Especially since that's barely a sip."

Spike shrugged, he felt good enough that he really didn't care one way or the other. "Ok. Tab should be here soon. And underwear."

Xander dropped the pants he was about to put back on and grinned. "Really?"

"Really. Would I lie to you?"

Xander considered this long enough that Spike was beginning to feel offended. "No, I really don't think you would. Why bother?"

Spike preened a bit. "Thanks." A light tap on the door had him asking, "Get that, will you, luv?"

"Sure. Bet it's a massive bill and my shorts." Xander opened the door to find that it was indeed his shorts and a bill. He just handed the demon his credit card and shut the door in its face.

It didn't take him long to dress and replace his weapons.

He went to the opposite side of the room and opened that door. "Bud?"

"Right here, buddy. What's up?"

"Nothing now." Xander smirked at his friend. "We'll be leaving in a few. You Ok?"

"Fine as frog hair split three ways. Ready to go any time you are. Master Spike feel better?"

"Yeah. Me, too." Bud just nodded.

Spike had to wait for the bill and credit card to come back so that Xander could sign it. They spent the time examining the set up and making crude comments. They laughed quite a bit; Spike's sharp wit and dry delivery kept Xander snickering.

The demon who returned with the bill was very apologetic about not having them on his reservation list; neither Spike nor Xander bothered to tell him that the outer door had been unlocked. Xander signed the invoice and they left, collecting Bud, and heading back up to the street level.

They exited the tavern and walked back to the SUV. Bud got them back to their hotel and they made it to bed just before sunrise.


	37. Chapter 37

Xander stood at Spike's side, wishing for another cup of coffee.

They'd awakened late and had to rush to get ready for court. Spike was bidding Master Robinson good-bye, so everything was really formal and stiff. Including their clothing. He sighed and forced himself not to fuss with his tie.

Spike mouthed all the proper things, bowed (just barely), smacked Arnold on the ass, and walked out. Xander scrambled to keep up with him. Spike smirked over his shoulder and Xander scowled back. Bud just snickered softly.

Tara, on the other hand, rolled her eyes and wondered if she'd ever get used to this male 'pissing contest' nonsense.

They made their way to the cars and drove out of the parking lot. Xander had felt a bit sorry for all the people that had to sit and wait for them; telling Master Robinson that they were waiting wouldn't have made any difference. He not only wouldn't understand the problem, he wouldn't care.

But now they were on the road to Chicago.

Xander had decided to tell Spike that it would take 16 hours. Actually, driving straight through should take 14, but Xander knew that they were going to have to stop at least once. Traveling with a complete household was a Dextera's nightmare. Xander had tried several times to get Spike to send at least some of the beings home, but every time he just about had him convinced, that particular person would be needed. He'd finally given up, complaining bitterly about organizational nightmares and uncooperative fate.

So, here they were traveling 900 plus miles by bus, SUV, and semi. He wished they could fly, but Spike had vetoed that on the first day. Some of the demons accompanying them were not human friendly and not at all willing to fly. Never mind that getting their weapons through security was impossible. Xander grumbled softly to himself; this damn convoy was a real nuisance. It was going to be even worse when they headed back for Nevada. He really dreaded the drive across Kansas. Not that he was really looking forward to driving the length of Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee, Missouri, and Illinois. He sighed and rubbed his face.

"What is it?" Spike tugged Xander until he leaned against his shoulder.

Xander let his head rest on Spike for a moment. "All the arrangements, they're driving me nuts. Renting new vehicles for one, who was the idiot that turned ours back in? And if one more person says they have to check with you first, I'm dismembering them, I swear."

"That's the big problem?" Spike snarled softly; he'd known there were going to be problems, but he'd hoped that Xander would be able to handle them. He'd handled construction crews of men older and more experienced than he; what was the problem here?

"I don't have anything to threaten them with. 'I'll tell Spike?' That's as bad as 'I'll tell Daddy.'"

Spike poked him into a position that was more comfortable, for Spike. "Just fuckin' kill 'em. I don't care. You're my Enforcer; you need them to be scared of you."

Xander made a soft noise. "I know that! What's... I... tell Timmins to quit feeding me stupid pills, will you?"

Spike snorted. "You're too nice. If I tell you directly to do something, you do it very well. So... No one disrespects you, no one back talks you, no one argues with you. It's the same as doing it to me. You're my Dextera."

Xander grumbled, "But what does that mean? I'm just a second. You gave me all my jobs, but Timmins..."

Spike interrupted him sharply. "Timmins is teaching you your job. I told you, you're my Dextera." Spike sighed softly. "Did it again, didn't I? Well, listen up. There's only one Dextera, ever. You're mine. You're my voice, my hand, my ears, my eyes, when I'm not around. You kill when I tell you to, you kill when you find someone has done something to deserve it, and you kill when you feel like it. No one can say no, no one can discipline you except me. I'm a god and you're a godling, for lack of a better way to explain it. If someone says they have to ask me before they do what you tell them to, kill em. They're too stupid to live anyway. Understand?"

Xander sighed happily. "Yes, sir. Kiss?"

Spike pulled Xander until he was lying along the seat with his head in Spike's lap and his feet across the U-shaped back seat. Spike bent over him in a fashion that Xander could only describe as looming and kissed him. Xander opened his mouth and kissed back.

"Mmmmm, nice vampire."

"'M not nice."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Stop arguing and kiss me some more."

Spike did as his Dextera ordered him to.

After several minutes of blatantly necking, Spike realized that Xander was going to have to take a break; panting that hard couldn't be good for him.

"Ok, pet?"

Xander gulped air. "Yes, only... not a pet."

"Shut it, you're my pet. This is nice."

Xander snickered. "Yeah, necking in a back seat with your lover is supposed to be brilliant. Right."

Spike smirked down at him. "Bloody brilliant, to be exact. Now... how the hell do you expect me to kiss you with your lips flappin' around like that?" Spike returned to his endeavors, Xander just relaxed and let things happen. Nice things.

Those things took up three hours of their time, made the driver nearly run off the road at least twice, and left them both thirsty. Xander fished in the mini-fridge for a drink. He cursed softly when he realized that no one had filled the thing. He was going to have words with Timmins; this was his job, not Xander's. Then he realized that Timmins had a lot more important things to do than seeing if a rented SUV was properly stocked. Xander got out his Blackberry and tried to send an email to the rental agency. There was no signal just now, one of the few drawbacks of the thing, so he made a note to send one later.

Spike snarled, grumbled a bit then ordered the driver to pull over. Xander checked his Blackberry for bars and only had two, not enough to get a clear connection.

"Wait until we get a good connection so I can text everyone that we're pulling over."

Spike glared at him. "What difference does that make? Whose business is it?"

Xander bared his teeth at Spike. "Everyone's. We need to stay in touch. This circus is so big it's ridiculous. I don't want everyone turning around and coming back to find us. This way, they'll know that we've stopped for a break and just keep on their merry way. Don't be a pain."

Spike pouted, but Xander ignored him.

After another mile or two, Xander told the driver to go ahead and pull out at the next available facility which turned out to be a truck stop.

Spike wasn't happy about the fact that; since it was barely noon, he couldn't go in with Xander. Xander just snorted and said, "What? I'm like three? Just relax; I'll be back in a few with some drinks and snacks. Funyuns? I know you like them."

Spike grumbled some more, but demanded Funyuns and AriZona tea. Xander made a 'yuk' face at him, but promised to bring both.

Xander walked across the parking lot at a leisurely pace, admiring the big rigs and trailers. Some of them had fantastic paint jobs and lights in places that had him puzzled. He shrugged as he walked through the door.

The mini-mart was like all truck stops: brightly lit, remarkably clean, and filled with counters too close together. The Muzak was predigested pap and the food was Hardee's and KFC. Yummy.

He decided to purchase one of the cheap coolers, stock it with cold drinks, and get a bucket of chicken to go. Spike liked wings.

Xander reached up to get a cooler from its place on top of the marquee over the fridge.

Then he heard voice from behind him, "Pretty collar, little boy."

He turned around to confront a huge trucker who was grinning at him in a fashion that Xander didn't like.

"Thanks."

"I think you need a new master. You're old one doesn't seem to know how to treat a slave."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Sorry, really busy. Oh, and I'm not a slave, or a toy." The man grabbed his wrist. "Hands off, ugly."

The trucker jerked on Xander's wrist, snarling wordlessly. Xander ducked under his out stretched arm, used the man's body as a fulcrum and tossed him over the nearest 4-foot section and into the aisle on the other side. He landed with a loud thump and slid down the aisle until he hit the end. Several other large men looked over, caught a good look at Xander and decided, due to the glaring, that they weren't interested.

Xander picked out some drinks, gathered his snacks, and carried the whole pile up to the check out.

"I'll be back for that when I get my chicken. Ok?"

The clerk gave Xander an uninterested once over. "What about that guy?"

"Who? Oh, big daddy? Not my problem. He'll be someone else's if he doesn't leave me alone." Xander turned away to get his chicken.

The clerk just sighed and said, "Ok."

The moment he was at the KFC counter she turned her head and yelled, "Clean up on aisle 3. Toss him out the back, please."

A boy about 17 wandered out from a back room and looked at the huge man. "Not a chance. I'll strain my back. Throw him out when he sobers up."

"Not drunk. Some guy tossed him over the shelves."

The boy looked impressed. "Cool. He get personal with him? That guy over at KFC, right?"

The clerk nodded. "Yeah. Something special about him?"

The stock boy, who happened to be a Dilmona demon, shrugged. "He's a Claimed. I can smell it. Not messing with him for a second."

"Vampire Claimed? Oh, shit. Phil really picked on the wrong sub this time." The clerk shook her head sadly. "I knew this was coming sooner or later. He's always gotten subs who wanted him before, but he's been getting too pushy lately."

Xander returned with his chicken and glanced from the clerk to the stock boy. "I'll give you a bit of advice for free. Get that idiot out of here and keep him out. He might be harmless, but guys like him? They escalate." At their puzzled looks he explained. "They get worse and worse. Sooner or later, they go too far, and either really, really hurt someone, or even kill them. And then the cops come around, truckers hear that this is a pick up joint then the fun really starts. The good guys avoid you, the bad guys crowd in, and you're ruined in no time."

Both the clerk and the boy looked worried. Xander nodded and started for the door, cooler, chicken, and snacks in hand. He glanced around and sighed; the place was nice, but they were in more trouble than they thought. He wondered if he shouldn't tell Spike then he realized that it wasn't Spike's domain; it belonged to the Master of Louisiana.

He walked back to the SUV, handed his booty in to Spike, and climbed in after. Spike sniffed once and threw a fit.

"What the hell? Who touched you? I'll kill 'em."

Xander just handed Spike his tea and Funyuns. "Don't bother. I tossed him over the counters. He's out like a light, and in disgrace. He'll have a hard time even getting back in the store. But..." He fished out the Blackberry and started a text. "Um... where the hell are we? Whose territory is this?"

"We're still in Louisiana's, just barely." Spike watched as Xander composed and sent the message. He got one back almost immediately, all it said was, "Situation noted, steps will be taken."

Xander pinged back to show that he'd actually gotten the message then dove into the bags.

"Here, Funyuns." Spike held up the bag he'd already been given. "What? I know you; more than one is good. And there's another tea. I got chicken for me and the driver; what the hell is his name?"

Spiked shook his head. "No idea. Hey!" The driver turned around. "What the hell is your name? We can't keep calling you 'Driver'."

The man grinned, teeth very white in his dark face. "Why not? It's my name. Mr. Jim Driver, at your service. And... um... I'm not that fond of chicken. So I'll just drive, Ok?"

Xander just shrugged. "I've got some snacks, too. Cheese crackers, chips, Doritos... um... and some chocolate. Kit Kat, Snickers, Ho-Hos, and a few others.

Mr. Driver just politely refused all offered treats, started the SUV, and pulled out of the parking lot. Spike immediately confiscated more than half of the snacks, amidst some very serious complaining on Xander's part.

"But, Spike, it's a special occasion!" He tried a pout; Spike just stashed the confiscated snacks in the console next to him and shook his head. "You never let me have snacks."

"I do, too. Nice ones like fruit and stuff." Spike laughed at Xander's protruding lip. "I'll ride to town on that."

"Damn. Why does that work for Willow and Buffy and not for me? It's not fair." Xander laughed, his natural good humor surfacing. "You just want them all for yourself, evil, undead git."

"Oi! I resemble that. And no I don't. You haven't pigged out on this kind of stuff in forever. You'll be sick as a foundered horse. An' I don't fancy riding around in a vehicle that smells of puke."

Xander grumbled, but picked out another piece of chicken. He also opened one of the small containers of cole slaw, and another of baked beans. Spike sighed, Xander and beans didn't mix well. He snatched it off Xander's knee and tossed it out the window he'd opened just for that purpose. Xander didn't even flinch; he just mumbled, "Asshole," around a mouthful of chicken.

Spike just raised his eyebrow and found the other container; it went the way of its companion and Spike leaned back against the seat again. "No beans. Potato salad, cole slaw, fine, but no beans."

Xander snorted around his slaw. "Glad we're not going to Boston, then."

Spike laughed lightly. "Me, too." He turned to his tea, but snagged a drumstick to go along with it.

The SUV drove on into the day, tinted windows protecting its occupants from the sun.

.

They arrived at Little Italy near 9pm, and slipped quietly into the parking garage of their hotel.

It was one of those out of the way places that no one really knew about except the 'cognoscenti'; those in the know. La Residenza was a small building with a great deal more underground than above. The building had been built during Prohibition as a hide-out for Al Capone, but he'd never even entered it, winding up in prison instead. Now it was a residence for guests of the Master of Chicago and the Northern Territories.

Xander looked around at the check-in desk and lobby. It was windowless but bright with indirect lighting coming from a strip of lights behind a decorative ledge around the walls near the ceiling. There were also lights on the pillars scattered around the area. He liked the style and really wanted to get a ladder and inspect the hidden lighting closer.

Timmins was in close discussion with the Maitre d' and the Manager. He was making sure that all the linens would be replaced with their own, and that all the rooms for vampires were underground. Xander managed to listen in, learning quite a bit in the process. Timmins was polite in a cool way that intimated that he could be not so cool in a split second. Xander had to grin a bit; Timmins was very intimidating when he wanted to be.

"What are you grinning at?"

"Timmins. He's older than Angel, claims to be nothing much special then intimidates the hell out of every place we stay."

Spike shrugged. "He's a great valet, what can I say?"

Xander snorted. "Thanks?"

Spike looked horrified. "I'd never insult him by implying that his efforts were visible."

Xander thought about that for a moment. "Oh? Well..." He trailed off, deciding that it had to be a vampire thing.

.

It didn't take them long to get settled in their suite, Timmins swooped in and took care of everything in a few moments. Xander and Spike wisely kept out of his way in the living room.

The suite was huge with a large living area containing three seating arrangements and a desk; there was also a dining room seating eight comfortably, two bedrooms with attached baths, and a small foyer.

Xander flopped down on a couch in one of the seating arrangements; all of them were identical with a couch, love seat and two chairs, a coffee table and three end tables. He put his feet up on the coffee table and grumbled. He was tired and hungry and not in the mood to mess with anything more than a plate of spaghetti and meat balls.

"Spike, how soon before supper? We slept in the SUV and I'm restless."

Spike just shrugged. "We could go to supper now, but it's a bit rude. We haven't greeted the High Master yet."

Xander grumbled again, but agreed that they had to make their appearance in court. "When should we leave for court?"

"As soon as we can be ready." Spike heaved himself off the love seat he'd sat down on and headed for the bedroom Timmins had assigned them. They found that Timmins was still talking to the head of housekeeping. Xander shook his head at Spike, slipped into the bathroom and started the shower. Xander knew that Spike didn't care for all this formality, things that Timmins delighted in, but he was putting up with it because they had to establish themselves as true High Master and Claimed. All this grand progression stuff was annoying, Xander knew he shouldn't feel like this, but he did.

Spike wasn't enjoying it much either, from what Xander could tell. He seemed irritable half the time and resigned the rest; it didn't make Xander happy.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?" Spike followed Xander into the bathroom and undressed, planning on taking the first shower.

"You're not really happy with all this are you?"

"No, I don't like it at all. I don't like being out of my territory, I don't like trusting your safety and mine to a near stranger. I don't know most of the beings we're coming in contact with, so I don't know what to expect from them. Makes me twitchy."

"Can we leave for New York City sooner?"

"I wish we could. We have to stay at least the three days we'd planned. I'm keeping our visit to the bare, polite minimum. I'm telling them that my territory has been neglected for so long that it's taking me forever to get things back under control. So far, no one has said anything."

Xander shrugged, trying to shake the tension out of his shoulders. "I don't like it. I want to go home. Something bad is going to happen. Or not."

Spike grunted as he soaped up. Xander stayed dressed, nominally guarding the door from strangers. Spike wasn't happy to be gone from his territory for so long, either. They'd been gone for four days, and it felt like four months; he was wondering who was up to what while his back was turned. He realized that it didn't make much difference; if he insulted the other High Masters he'd be involved in war on at least two fronts and his territory would never survive it. He ground his teeth and finished his shower, drying off quickly. Timmins had at least gotten their toiletries and towels in place before the lecture.

Timmins had finally finished instructing the housekeeping staff on what he expected from them. He'd put out something for both Spike and Xander awaiting their approval. Xander only examined his suit for a second before approving it. Spike turned his over, examined it carefully then nodded once.

Spike wished that he and Xander had time to do more than shower and dress, but if they didn't want to insult High Master Antonio De Luca they had to appear at his court at the proper time. Each court had different traditions, and in this court the proper time was about halfway through the session, or at approximately midnight. He glanced at his watch and snarled, if they hurried they'd just make it.

Xander's brief, unsatisfying shower was followed by shaving and dressing. Spike managed a bit more quickly than Xander as he'd started first and didn't have to shave, but Xander's blue five o'clock shadow needed attention. Xander examined his chin to make sure that he hadn't left a tuft and grumbled even more.

"I don't see why we have to make it to court tonight. We just got in, I'm tired, never mind that I slept in the SUV, and we're rushing around like crazy things to make it to court? Stupid, that's what it is. And I'm nervous, I feel like... something bad is going to happen, and I don't know what. So... Timmins, I want both swords, both Berettas, and as many throwing knives as I can hide. And I want Spike armed, too." He turned to glare at Spike. "And no argument. Timmins? Call Bud and tell him to arm up, too."

Timmins just nodded and left to do as he was told. When Xander got like this it was better to just do as he was told; arguing only made Xander sulky.

So Timmins put out everything Xander asked for, called Bud and gave him his orders, and advised him to leave Tara in her quarters. Bud agreed and asked Timmins to let Xander know that he'd be ready in twenty minutes.

It took that long for Xander to convince Spike to carry weapons, and Xander only managed that by telling him that he, Xander, might need them. Spike grumbled that the MAC-10 spoiled the fit of his suit; Xander didn't see it. After all, he was hiding his gladius, two Beretta 93R's, and half a dozen knives. He hadn't managed to figure out how to hide his tachi so he was just going to have Bud carry it. If the Master of the Territory didn't like it, tough. He knew they were going to be accompanied by nearly a dozen other bodyguards, but he didn't care.

.

Xander followed Spike into the court room and nearly stopped cold. It was amazing, like something out of an old Gangster movie.

"Jesus, Spike, they all look like wise guys."

Spike shrugged. "Don't bother to whisper, they can all hear you. And most of the older ones are all 'made men', original made men. The Master actually does refer to himself as the Capo di Tutti Capi, so do all his people." Spike smirked as one of the Capi came to escort him to the couch the Capo sat on. Xander found it a bit confusing as Capo meant captain, and every higher up here was called Capo. He shrugged that away and paid attention.

They were given comfortable chairs, Spike and Xander; Bud stood behind Xander's chair with his sword in one hand. The rest of Spike's entourage either did not come or were pointed to places far enough away that they were part of the court, but not intruding on the Capo's personal space. Xander didn't like being that far away from the rest of the group, but Spike didn't seem bothered.

Xander ignored the polite small talk in favor of scanning the room for exits, problems, and weak points. After evaluating everything Xander decided that the court was safe enough. There were nearly a hundred beings in the court, most of them vampires. The few other demons were harmless sorts, and seemed to be servants or very low level minions. He relaxed a bit.

Spike glanced at Xander, noted his wandering eyes, and returned to exchanging civilities with Master De Luca.

Suddenly there was a bang from the back of the room. Xander jumped up from the chair, gladius in one hand and a 93R in the other. Spike pulled the MAC-10, and Bud unsheathed the tachi. Others in the room scurried to get out of the way of the combatants.

Master De Luca just leaned back on his couch and purred, "Well, well, what do we have here?"

Spike discretely pulled Xander and Bud off to one side. This was not their problem, and they needed to stay out of it as much as possible.

Bud took his position on Spike's right and Xander on the left. They kept their weapons in hand.

Don Antonio watched as four vampires advanced to a place right in front of him. They all looked like old Mafiosi.

What followed was just like something out of Mafia legend.

Don Antonio talked about loyalty to the head of family; the four talked about new blood. The verbal sparring made Xander's head ache.

Spike watched the battle of wills with sharp attention. This was the sort of thing he had to deal with, and it was always interesting to see how another master handled it. Don Antonio just let the four argue themselves into a dead end then abandoned them to their own stupidity. They argued with each other at the end and nearly came to blows over it. Xander just put up his weapons and sat back down in a convenient chair.

The Don invited two vampires from the side to come forward and advise him. They leaned over his shoulders and whispered in his ears, they whispered to each other, and finally stood. They backed up into the shadows again, and Don Antonio turned to Spike.

"It seems I have a problem that only someone not in line of succession can help me with. I would ask you for a favor."

Spike studied the Don for a few long moments then asked, "What kind of favor? I'm not inclined to grant carte blanche. Sorry."

"No problem. I ask, you say yea or nay."

Spike thought about that for a second. "Ok, ask; the worst I'll do is say no."

"I need someone removed. Only one person. An execution if you will. But if any of my people do it there will be a vendetta. If someone not attached to this court does it, it'll be considered a lifetime favor to me and no blame attached to it at all."

Xander shifted uncomfortably; he had an idea where this was going. Bud put a hand on his shoulder.

Spike turned his head to look at Xander. "Xander?"

Xander thought carefully, could he do this? He was sure he could, if Spike said it was necessary. And that meant the Don would owe them a huge favor. He shrugged.

"Up to you. If you want to grant the favor, I can do it."

Spike turned back to the Don. "Who do you want whacked?"

Don Antonio thought for a moment then pointed to the one who seemed to be the instigator to him. He knew that the vampire that was the nominal leader hadn't thought this up, he wasn't smart enough, but his 'advisor' was. That was the vampire he wanted dead. Several of his courtiers grabbed the one he pointed out. It didn't take them long to subdue him and drag him to stand in front of Don Antonio.

Xander stood up, shed his jacket, and took his tachi from Bud, exchanging it for his gladius which was in a sheath between his shoulder blades. He kept his guns as they wouldn't be in his way.

Don Antonio glared at his chosen target. The vampire snarled, "I'm not letting that human take me out. He'll have to fight me to do it."

The Don looked at Spike. Spike shrugged. "He can do it. Might press home a few ideas. Like we High Masters stand up for each other. If it's a legitimate challenge that's one thing. This sort of stupidity is another. How you want to do this?"

Don Antonio shrugged. "Up to your human. Whatever makes him happy."

Spike just looked at Xander. Xander just remarked, "What would make me happy is not to mess up my new suit fighting that fool. I just put it on for the first time."

The Don just said, "Fugedabowdit, I'll buy you two new suits, your choice." He waved a hand expansively. "Don't care how much it costs."

Xander just shrugged. "Ok." He turned to Bud shrugging off his harness. "Here, hold this, too." Bud just smirked and took the harness.

Xander pulled his hair back and put a tie on it. It was now very long, nearly to the bottom of his shoulder blades and had several war locks braided into it, each with a jewel or totem at the end. Xander liked it that way better, the other locks had been heavy and more uncomfortable than he was willing to put up with. Besides, this way it took Spike more time to braid them for him, time they both enjoyed.

He turned back to the Don and nodded. "Let the bum go. Oh, and I hate killing someone whose name I don't know. What's his?"

One of the courtiers holding the vampire said, "His name's Dominic Murano, or mud, depending."

Xander just set himself; Dominic was finally let go, and the fight was on. The vampire thought all he would have to do was charge Xander and it would be all over. It didn't work; Xander stepped out of the way and let him charge by. Dominic stumbled to a halt glaring around, vamp faced and furious. Spike helpfully grabbed him by one arm and got him pointed in the right direction again.

The second charge resulted in the same dodging as the first, but Xander smacked Dominic across the buttocks with the flat of his sword as he passed. Xander reassumed his defensive posture, sword held at shoulder height, point towards his opponent. Xander waited while Dominic thought about things. Whatever he'd come up with wasn't a good idea as it led to him charging Xander for a third time.

Xander sighed, "Bored now." He kicked Dominic in the back and watched as he stumbled and fell to his knees. When he reared up to stand, Xander sliced off his head in one powerful blow. He flicked his sword to dash off blood then grinned at Spike; as the fool had been a vampire, there was no blood.

Spike got up, nodded to Don Antonio, and remarked. "That's it. I know we're supposed to trade pleasantries and such, but we've been on the road for something like 15 hours and I'm tired. With your permission I'm taking my boy and going back to the hotel. We'll return to court tomorrow."

The Capo di Tutti Capi stood, motioned to chairs and said genially, "Sit! Sit! We'll have a little refreshment then you can go. But my Mama taught me it's rude to let you go without refreshment. Coffee, connoli?"

Spike had to laugh, he was sure the Don had no idea how much Xander loved coffee. Xander accepted his harness from Bud and shrugged into it. He put his gladius back in its sheath, exchanging it for his tachi again. He settled in the chair that Spike pointed to, wondering for the thousandth time why he was allowed to sit in the presence of the High Master of the Northern Territory.

"Got an odd look on your face, boy. What's the problem? Are you bothered by that?"

Xander didn't ask by what; he wasn't that naive. "No, just wondering why I get to sit in your presence. I'm more or less a nobody."

Don Antonio waved a hand. "Bah! I know a Companion when I see one. Used to be that wasn't that big a deal, slaves more than anything else. But the new ways are going far back to the really old days. Days when a Companion or a Claimed were valued, high ranking members of a court. I find I like it. So, coffee? Cannoli?"

Xander's eyes lit up, "Cappuccino? What's a cannoli?"

Spike and Don Antonio both burst out laughing. Xander visibly pouted. It was a bit difficult to equate this pouting young man with the stone faced warrior of only a moment ago. Several of the courtiers shifted uncomfortably, wondering how this was going to affect their lives.

An elderly, motherly looking woman came in with a tray. On the tray were two cups of espresso, a cup of cappuccino and a plate of tubular pastries with filling oozing out of them. She handed the two espressos out, one to Spike and one to Don Antonio. She offered the last cup to Xander. He took the cup of cappuccino from the old woman and said, "Gratzie. Is that right?"

She smiled, revealing fangs. "Yes, very good. Here is cannoli. Mangia."

The Don just shook his head. "Mama! Not so bossy."

Mama just turned and smacked him in the back of the head. "Who are you to tell me what to do? You boss everyone else, I boss you. That's the way it is. Now. I'm going to cook."

No one laughed, not even Spike. Xander knew enough about Italian families that he just ignored the byplay and concentrated on his cannoli.

Spike accepted a cannoli on a dainty plate from the Don who immediately filled another plate. Xander frowned a bit, but didn't say anything; he was still not quite sure how to act in a situation like this.

Spike handed the plate he was holding to Xander with a soft, "Never eat anything at court unless I either approve by going first or actually give it to you." Xander nodded, remembering that he'd followed Spike at the New Orleans buffet.

"Ok. I'll remember." He picked up the pastry after watching the Don do so, and bit into it. "Mmmm. This is so goo'" He licked some of the creamy filling off his lower lip and sighed. He finished his cannoli and cappuccino then nudged Spike with his foot. Spike smiled over at him and shook his head. Xander nodded his understanding; they were leaving.

Spike stood up, offered his hand to the Don, and said, "Thank you so much for your hospitality."

"No, thank you for helping me avoid an... unpleasantness. I'm grateful."

Spike nodded, almost a bow, and turned to leave. Xander did bow, not more than a dip of his shoulders, but it seemed to please the Don. Bud bowed a bit, too, and followed Xander down the aisle left between the couch and doors. The rest of Spike's entourage bowed to varying degrees, and they all left.

The drive back to the hotel was accomplished in silence. Xander just put his head on Spike's shoulder and dozed. They were all tired, and Spike was irritable.

When they got back to the hotel, Spike jiggled Xander gently. "Wakey, wakey, we're here."

"Huh?" Xander jerked then straightened up. "Oh, Ok." He dragged himself after Spike, feeling tired and muzzy. He followed Spike into the elevator and leaned against the wall.

He finally got his thoughts organized and wondered if he'd gone too far with the execution.

"Spike?"

"What, luv? You don't look happy."

Xander rubbed his face wearily. "I'm... not. You don't think I was too ruthless there, do you?"

"Vampire here, it was a thing of beauty as far as I'm concerned. Clean, quick, and smooth. No torture, but a vamp can't have everything. Don't worry about it. I gave an order, and you carried it out. We both came out of it smelling like roses, and the Don owes me a favor. It's all good."

Xander looked relieved. "Ok, that's good then. I won't worry about it anymore."

Spike patted Xander. "That's my boy. I think we're both just overtired. All that driving, and no time to do more than scrape the sweat off. Come on, beddie-bye."

Xander snorted. "I'm not three. But, you're right, I'm tired. Killing people is hard work." He stretched and grunted. "Hum. Do you think Mama would give the recipe for those cannon things to Timmins?"

"You mean cannoli? Probably not. Women of that sort keep family recipes closer than their virgin daughters. But Timmins probably has a recipe of his own."

Xander frowned wondering why Timmins hadn't made him any. He decided not to worry about it for now; he was too tired. Crashing from an adrenaline high after a 15 hour drive, even if he did manage to sleep, was just messing with his head too much.

"Spike, I'm so tired now that I'm stupid. If you need me to be on, there's things I can do. I'd rather not as they're really hard on the system later. Let's just go to bed."

Spike felt a bit sad that he'd had to put Xander on the spot like that, but felt that it was worth it in the long run. Having a powerful Master like Don Antonio De Luca owe him a favor was a big boost to his prestige.

"Ok, Xander, bed it is. You'll feel better in the morning."

"I know. I just get tired of all the dancing. Never was good a dancing."

Spike blinked for a second, dancing? What the heck was Xander rambling about? He decided not to worry about it and just get Xander to bed before he fell over.

It didn't take long to get Xander to their rooms. Timmins met them at the door and shook his head. Spike would never admit that he looked as tired as Xander did.

"Fine, all that court business over with?" Spike cast him a puzzled look. "You think I don't know exactly what you two have been up to? I have my sources. Both of you, bath, bed. I've already got it all set up. The tub is big enough for both of you. Wash and get to bed before you both fall over."

Neither argued with the bossy valet. They were both tired enough that they just showered and headed to bed.

Spike crawled between the sheets and held them up so that Xander could scoot in beside him. "Come on, luv, we're both knackered. I'm more tired than if I'd done battle."

Xander scooted into the bed and cuddled up to Spike. "I did battle. Sleep now."

Spike sighed and settled in against Xander. "Know ya did battle; that's why I'm so tired. Hate watching and not being able to help. Worry, ya know?"

"I do know." Xander snuggled down more, getting comfortable against Spike's side. "Sleep, you. Noisy vampire."

Xander waited for Spike to say something in return then realized that Spike was already asleep. He was asleep before he could do more than marvel a bit.

.

Morning was 7pm and Timmins knocked softly on the door; when Spike mumbled, "In," he peeked in the door then smiled at what he saw. Xander had reared up behind Spike, scowling. The sight of a slender, blond-haired Spike backed by Xander's more powerful shoulders and streaming dark hair made him smile. His boys were so beautifully deadly.

"Well, here we are. Breakfast." Timmins put the tray on the bed in front of Spike. Piled on the tray was a stack of cannoli, a bowl of fruit, and two cups of thick cappuccino. Xander immediately picked up a cannoli and bit into it.

"Oi! Those things shatter. You've got crumbs in the bed." Spike pretended indignation, but he was actually pleased to see Xander eat. He always ate with such abandon, just like he did other things.

"Sod off." Xander grinned at Spike around a mouthful of chocolate cream filling. Spike caught a glimpse of a blob in the corner of his mouth over his shoulder. He decided the only just punishment was to steal it, so he did. He rolled Xander over and kissed the blob of filling off his mouth.

Xander held the rest of his pastry overhead to avoid it being smashed, but otherwise didn't resist. Timmins adroitly snatched the tray away so that the coffee wasn't spilled. Spike kissed Xander until he was limp then licked his neck. He sighed and eased back; the time was almost right, but not just yet.

Xander gave Spike a puzzled look, but then shrugged, Spike would tell him what was up when he wanted to and not a second before. He settled back into a lounging position and stuffed the rest of the cannoli into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he grumbled, "Spike, if you've spilled the coffee, I'm not gonna be happy."

Timmins set the tray back on the bed. "You better hurry a bit. You'll be wanting showers and a heartier breakfast. Court will convene at 10 p.m. precisely. It wouldn't do to be late. There will be a meal at midnight. Signora De Luca is cooking." He gave them a smug look. "She was so kind as to send me a cannoli recipe. I've never made them before. I hope they are up to standard."

Xander moved to sit on the side of the bed, nudging Spike out of his way to do so. "They're really good. And..." he took an appreciative sip of his coffee, "the cappuccino is especially good."

"Thank you. As you know, we couldn't bring your machine along; it's not good for them to be moved so often. But they have an acceptable machine here. Now, finish your coffee and shower. I'll notify the kitchens that you'll be down to the main dining room for breakfast in... an hour?"

Spike nodded. "Hour would be just about right. Full breakfast, in case that luncheon isn't up to par."

Timmins nodded. "Very well. Although I will say that I don't think Signora De Luca would serve substandard food."

Xander grinned. "Spike, even I know that in a family like that one, the lady is on top of service. She might even be doing all the cooking herself. And, that's really strange, vampires that have banquets. I still don't get it. But, who am I to turn down food? Come on, let's get going."

After showering and getting dressed, this time in similar suits with fewer weapons (Xander carried one of his Berettas and Spike just stuck a knife up his sleeve), they arrived in the main vestibule and entered the restaurant without incident.

Breakfast was decent, by anyone else's standards, but Timmins had spoiled them both. Xander eyed the eggs with a scornful expression.

"They're watery." He touched them. "And cold. I'm not eating this."

Spike picked up his mug of blood, sniffed it and scowled. "This is off. And too warm. What's going on here?"

Xander shrugged. "I don't know and I don't care. We'll find someplace else to eat. There's got to be a good restaurant close. It's Little Italy, damn it."

As they left Spike cornered the Maitre d' and reamed him a new one. "You ever serve me or mine a mess like that again and I'll eat you. Got me."

The Maitre d' stuttered then managed, "But it's supper time, not breakfast. We don't usually do breakfast at 8pm."

Spike sneered at this. "Don't care, do I. You're supposed to be one of the best restaurants around that caters to demon trade. My blood was off, and too warm. My boy couldn't eat his food either. We'll be leaving early. And the Master of the Territory will hear about this."

The man, the Maitre d' was human, promptly wet himself. Spike smirked, his mission accomplished, and sauntered away, coattails swinging.

Xander just snickered, "You didn't!"

"Did!" Spike's self-satisfied smirk made Xander snicker even more. He found he just couldn't be bothered to worry about people that stupid.

"Shame on us." He glanced at his very practical military-style watch and announced, "We have less than two hours before we just _have_ to head for court. I hear DiMaggio's is great for pizza. Let's go there."

Spike sighed. "No. Not unless they have something beside pizza. Pizza is not the end all and be all of Italian food."

Xander shrugged. "Ok, wise guy, you pick. But I'm hungry and not in the mood to drive halfway across the city to eat at some chi-chi place that thinks a mushroom and a scrap of bread is a course."

The doorman overheard them and asked, "Are you looking for some other restaurant?"

Xander nodded, remarking, "Yeah, the Maitre d' here is an idiot. Cold eggs just don't cut it. You got any ideas?" He squinted to get a look at his name tag. "Nicco?"

Nicco shrugged in the way only an Italian can. "Sure, go up to Mulberry St. and start walking, doesn't make any difference which direction, and just stand in a doorway. If you like the smell, go in; if not, walk on. Easy." He shrugged again, opened the door, and bowed them out with a 'this way' gesture.

The walked up Hester St. and turned onto Mulberry; as they walked along they sniffed the air like a pair of hunting hounds. One place looked clean, but Spike smelled something he didn't like so they walked on. Finally Xander stopped in front of a place and announced, "Casa Bella? I've got to eat here. Spike?"

Spike sniffed carefully. "Smells great. A bit garlicky, but that's to be expected. Let's get seated."

Xander could feel his mouth watering already. The entered and were seated at once.

The waiter handed them a menu each and asked for a drink order. Spike thought for a moment then said, "Water for now. We'll decide on wine when we figure out what we're ordering." The waiter nodded and left to let them decide.

Xander opened the menu to the last page and blinked. He read for a moment then turned to Spike. "Ok this ain't Dominic's Pasta Palace. Antipasti, Primi, Secundi? What the heck?"

"Order one of each. Just go easy, we're supposed to eat at court in..." He glanced at a clock on the wall. "about four hours."

Xander snorted. "I can manage, I'm sure, especially since we never had dinner last night."

They turned back to their menus and Xander found himself drooling over Portobello alla Griglia, portobello mushroom caps grilled over an open fire then brushed with a marinade of white wine, garlic, and extra-virgin olive oil. Spike sighed; he was going to have to get Xander a whole box of mints.

Spike chose a simple Caprese; fresh mozzarella with tomatoes and basil, drizzled with olive oil.

For Primi they both chose Lobster Ravioli with a sauce of light cream and saffron. Xander had to take a drink of his water to keep from drooling.

Then for Secundi they went different ways; Spike chose Pasta Puttanesca, fettucini in a tomato sauce with garlic, capers, and black olives, easy on the garlic, while Xander chose Spaghetti Carbonara, simple spaghetti in a sauce of bacon, onions and cream.

When the waiter came for their order he suggested that they have a house wine with their meal as it came by the glass. Spike asked for a taste before deciding, and the sommelier came with a small glass of the house white. It was more than acceptable, so the waiter went away to turn in their order.

Xander leaned back in his chair and grumbled a bit. He couldn't figure out why the restaurant didn't offer dessert. Spike snorted and told him he didn't need one; he'd be too full after all that food, but if he did want one, they'd go to a patisserie. There had to be one nearby, so Xander quit bitching and started in on another one of his stream of questions. Spike just answered as best he could.

They ate, arguing amiably about how to organize the last leg of the trip, and finished in agreement that the meal had been one of the best they'd ever had. Spike sighed and sipped the last of his wine.

"Well, we better get out of here. Pay the lad, will you?"

Xander pulled a credit card out of his wallet and put it on the small tray along with the bill. He waited until the waiter came over then handed him the tray. The waiter looked at him more closely then left to ring them up. He returned, had Xander sign the bill, examined the signature closely, and left, mumbling, "They look younger every year."

Spike looked at Xander who just glowered at the waiter's retreating back.

Xander stood up, suggesting that they go on to court, and just hang around until it convened; Spike agreed. The walk was short, and they got to the court with plenty of time.

"Um... Spike? Why did we take an SUV last time if the court is so close to the hotel."

"Wanted to drive around a bit and see the lights. Vegas is better."

Xander laughed; he knew Spike was vain about his city. "Yeah, no place in the world for neon like Vegas. And it's all yours. Smile at the Mafiosi."

They'd just entered the building where the court room was. That room was underground, but much of the rest of the court business was done in the three stories above ground. The entry way was not the way they'd come in last time; then they'd come in through the underground garage entrance. The main entrance was large in the way only something built in the 1920's could be. It was marble, several different colors of it set into patterns in the floor and on the walls. The reception counter was a massive slab of highly polished teak. The vampire behind the desk took one look at them and scurried out to greet them in person.

"Master Spike, Companion Harris, welcome. We weren't expecting you quite so soon. Is there a problem?"

Spike just shook his head. "No, we just ate at Casa Bella, decided to just come on over and do a bit of visiting. That's alright, isn't it?"

"Of course it is. Please, this way." The receptionist led them to a bank of elevators and spoke to the attendant. He showed them on back to an elevator hidden in a nook at the back of the bank. He opened the door of that elevator himself and motioned them in.

The elevator was old enough that it still actually had an operator. Spike ignored the man. Xander, however, was fascinated and pelted the man with questions. He answered each one and even let Xander try the control. There were only two controls, a handle and slot arrangement and a stop button. The outer doors were opened with a simple pull handle, and the inner cab doors were nothing but strips of steel riveted together and opened with another pull handle, the locking mechanism no more than a button and slot. Xander marveled at its simplicity. He was told firmly that he wasn't allowed to do more than he had, and the operator took them down to the lower levels.

Spike slipped the human a hundred dollar bill and smiled at him.

.

Their visit at court went well. All the courtiers were well aware that Xander was more than some meat puppet that Spike had picked up. Seeing him actually dust a member of the court at the Don's request had set his status in their eyes.

Xander stuck close to Spike with Bud, who'd slipped into the room about ten minutes after they'd arrived, on his other side. They circulated, and Spike displayed his Victorian manners with aplomb.

After half an hour of this Xander muttered in Spike's ear, "I hate you. How the heck can you keep this up?"

Spike just smiled pleasantly at some dignitary or other. "I keep imagining them sucking me off. It's all good." Xander stifled a whoop of laughter by clapping one hand over his mouth.

"Evil undead git."

"That's me, luv." He turned as doors opened. "Looks like court is convening right on time."

They entered the court room first, Xander uncomfortable with having so many strange vampires and demons at his back. Spike with the arrogant assurance of someone strong enough not to worry about that.

The Don welcomed everyone, Spike, Xander, and Bud in particular, and announced that this session was informal then waved his hand in a grand gesture, dismissing them all to their own devices. Spike scowled his annoyance; he'd wanted to speak to the Don again. He was pleased a second later when Don Antonio's Secundus came to him and asked him to speak to the Don.

They wound up in the comfortable chairs the Don reserved for special guests discussing their arrangements to get to New York City. Spike admitted, finally, that the group was too large and it was really a lot more difficult to travel with all those beings than he'd expected. Xander sighed softly and started compiling a mental list of who he could safely send back to Nevada at once. He was surprised at how long it actually was. He rubbed his forehead fretfully; Timmins was going to have fits.

"Luv? Something wrong?" Spike put a hand on Xander's arm gently. The Don smiled to himself; being a vampire, he recognized 'young love' when he saw it.

"Not really. Just figuring out who to send back. The list includes all the cleaning crew and about half the rest of the... whatever you call this traveling circus. Timmins is not going to be happy."

Spike scowled then said in a harsh tone, "I don't care about that. He's a servant, a childe not mine; he'll do as he's told and like it."

Xander couldn't help the warm feeling that flowed through him. "Oh, Ok. I'll write out the list and give it to him. Can he make arrangements, or should I?"

The Don interrupted calmly. "Just send them back in the vehicles you're renting. I'll make arrangements to get you to New York. I've still got my railway cars. And I still have the connections to get them hooked up to a train going that way. I might even be able to make a nonstop connection. I'll see what I can do. Tell me when you know how many people you'll actually be taking."

Xander nodded absently while he studied his Blackberry. "Yes, sir. I'll get this done in a few minutes, email it to... do you have a printer here?" One of the aides gave Xander the address and he went back to his list, nodding his thanks. Spike started to say something, but the Don just shook his head, amused instead of annoyed. Spike relaxed back in his chair, and he and the Don returned to their idle discussion of territorial politics.

Xander looked up and smiled apologetically. "Oh, damn, sorry about that. I've gotten our little... crew down to 30 people that we just can't get along without. Mostly bodyguards, the stable and such; except for Timmins and the cooks. And they're all vamps except the stable so it's not like they're all helpless or anything. In fact that one Chinese guy is a mean asshole with a cleaver. But, here's who we're taking and I sent an email to Timmins to make arrangements to get the others sent back right now. That way I don't have to argue with him, I just told him that Spike said and that's that. They should be gone by the time we get back to the hotel. Thank goodness."

Spike snickered rather meanly. "Good, but you know damn good and well that Timmins is going to pout or pitch a hissy. He's very big on my putting up the proper image."

Don Antonio snorted. "Like being one-fourth of The Scourge of Europe isn't prestige enough." He eyed Xander for a moment then went on, "And having that one at your side, willingly? Pfft! What I wouldn't give for one of my own. But, come, eat." He pointed to his mother, who was standing in the door of the dining room with a small glass bell in her hand. "She's going to ring the bell, and God help the ones who don't line up promptly."

Xander stood, waiting impatiently for the Don and Spike to start the line then had a brain storm. "Spike, I thought vampires didn't eat human food."

Spike just glanced at the Don; he was wondering about that himself.

Don Antonio answered easily. "Na! Some do, some don't. Mostly it depends on the creator. My Sire was an eater. So all my Childer are, too. Spike's an aberration; his Lady Sire was... not all there. If you take my meaning, no insult intended"

Spike cheerfully admitted, "No insult taken. My Dark Princess was loony as they come. Loved her once, don't anymore."

Xander felt a bit bad about that, but realized that they were all better off if Dru never showed up again. He decided to forget about her and concentrate on the food.

Mama rang her bell and they all filed into the dining room. The tables there were set up in a neat arrangement that let everyone know who was who. There was one long main table where the 'upper class' sat. Then there were two more tables, shorter, and off to the sides; these tables were for the lowest levels of minions and fledges.

The food was all served family style with huge platters of spaghetti and meatballs, lasagna, ziti, and salad. Carafes of wine lined the tables as well. And toasted garlic bread in baskets. Xander was in heaven; Spike just wrinkled his nose and sighed. He knew that garlic didn't repel vampires due to any magical qualities; it just stank to many of them. Obviously, this lot didn't think so. He decided he'd better have plenty of the hair of the dog so to speak. He reached over for the lasagna.

Xander on the other hand was happily piling his plate with spaghetti, lasagna, ziti, and bread. His small side plate was filled with salad, more bread, and some of the lovely, fat olives. He nodded to the Capo who filled his wine glass for him, after glancing at Spike for his permission, and mumbled, "Thank you," around a meatball.

Spike also helped himself to a serving of almost everything on the table and settled in to eat with good humor. After all, everything was made with a mother's love, something he hadn't had in more than a hundred years.

Due to the Old World manners encouraged by the court, Xander only spoke to the people on either side of him. This meant that he couldn't speak to Spike as he was seated on the other side of the table. He watched Spike without shame, happy that Spike was happy. Spike looked up and caught him. He grinned and nodded.

When the desserts were served, tiramisu, cannoli, and some cookie Xander didn't like as it tasted like cough medicine, Spike refused them and just took coffee. Xander took all the sweets he thought he could get away with and coffee. Spike knew that Xander was flirting with a stomach ache, but didn't say anything, deciding that the experience was a better teacher. But he hoped not.

Don Antonio stood up, dismissed the diners, and left after nodding to Spike and Xander. Bud had been sent farther down the table and so was ignored, something he couldn't have cared less about. All he was really interested in doing was getting back to Tara. He had to smile about that; for some reason she'd refused to come to this court at all. Spike didn't push her.

They made their way back to the hotel and settled in for the night. Tara greeted Bud at the doors with a smile and they disappeared back upstairs. Spike and Xander's eyes met in a knowing glance.

.


	38. Chapter 38

Title: Ulterior Motives

Chapter: /?

Word count:

Rating: Mature

Disclaimer: Except for the few original characters, all characters in this story are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, who have kindly allowed me to play with them. These fan fictions were written for fun, not profit. However, this story does belong to me. Please don't snitch it.

Warnings: Probably a little of everything. Fighting, Spanking, Bondage, Blood, Gore, Bad Language,

Parings: Spike/Xander

Beta: aayesha_r (due to last minute rewriting, all remaining mistakes are mine.)

All chapters a href=" HYPERLINK "."."here/a

This link leads to my website.

Xander decided that this day was not going to go well shortly after he woke up. This was because he heard Spike in the living area, slamming things around. He got out of bed and wandered in, scratching his ass with one hand and trying to straighten his hair with the other.

"Spike, what the hell? What's going on?"

Spike turned, vamp faced, and snarled, "They tried again." At Xander's blank-faced stare, he explained, "To off the Don. I don't like this. We need to do something."

Xander sighed then shrugged, "Yeah, get out of town, right now. We're distracting him." Spike glowered. "Shut it! We can't get involved anymore than we already are. Do you really want to undermine his authority?" Spike shook his head. "Didn't think so. We mess in his business now and we'll ruin him. We just need to get out of his hair so he can concentrate on taking care of this." Xander sighed and called Timmins.

Timmins appeared out of his rooms and nodded. "Sir?"

Xander didn't bother with niceties. "You heard and don't shake your head. I know you did. Start packing us up, get the stable ready, and tell the others that they've got exactly one hour to get their shit together. We'll be leaving... by train. I'll go stick a poker up someone's ass and make the arrangements. We'll take the old subway from here to the train station, if I can fix it up."

Spike snarled, "And what am I supposed to be doing while you do all that?"

Xander snarked, "Well, going to the Don and making nice wouldn't hurt. Salve his conscience about us leaving so fast. We were going to leave tomorrow anyway, right? Take the blame, or dump it on me. Tell him a nice lie. You'll both know it's a lie, but neither one of you'll admit it. So suck it up and get. I'll see about getting arrangements made by the time you get back."

Spike just snorted. "Ok, Mr. Bossy. You said one hour, how'm I supposed to get an appropriate amount of schmoozing done in an hour?"

"I gave the minions an hour. We'll take as long as we take. They'll wait or they'll wait. The stable will take at least three hours to get organized, even with Timmins standing over them. Scat!"

So Spike dressed in what Timmins had laid out for him; Xander demanded BDU's and every weapon he could get away with. Timmins put out his things while he showered and planned. He wound up looking like an off duty SWAT member, a very well-armed one. He couldn't carry his tachi, but he had his gladius down the back of his neck in a special break away sheath. He also had his Berettas in his shoulder harness. He was quite willing to risk Chicago police stopping him. If someone was trying to assassinate Don Antonio, they might be after Spike and him, too.

Spike went to speak to the Don while Xander managed to issue orders to Timmins. There was a lot more to getting their group on the road than just issuing an order. Timmins made sure that Xander stood by while he organized the group. Xander learned a lot in the hour.

.

"Don Antonio." Spike approached the vampire with an easy deference that made him smile.

"What can I do for you?"

Spike stepped close and put a hand on the Don's shoulder. "Don't get yourself killed; you still owe me a favor. But it's not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you. I'd like to just get out of your hair. I'm a distraction at a time when you don't need one. Get one of your childer to arrange a train for us. We don't have time to rent a convoy of SUV's, RV's, and busses."

Don Antonio nodded his understanding. "Ok, good. I got a private car still and contacts to get it coupled to a train. Might be a cargo train instead of passenger. I'll send Dominic to see what he can do."

Spike just nodded his understanding. He wanted out of Chicago now; he didn't want to be the source of a distraction that Don Antonio really couldn't afford right now.

"Thanks, I'll issue a formal invitation some other time, but feel free to come to Vegas and visit me anytime. I'll get going now, want me to take Dominic with me or does he need to stay here?"

"He can do what needs done from here. I don't want him out of the Residence; it's not safe. No one will bother you, so don't worry about that. I'll see you later. Good-bye." And with that, the Don turned and walked away.

Spike watched him for a moment and thought that Xander would look much like that in another fifteen or twenty years.

He wanted that very much.

.

Xander took the call on his Blackberry. It was a vampire named Dominic. Dominic told him that the Don's private railway car was being coupled to a passenger train bound for New York City. It would be leaving at 10pm, or in about two hours. That meant they had less than 45 minutes to get out of the hotel and on their way.

Timmins issued orders like a drill sergeant and Xander did, too. The packing was mostly done already with just a few things to finish up. But getting everyone together was still a challenge. Some of the women in the stable caused an uproar when one of them demanded to return to her room to make sure she hadn't left her favorite earrings on the bathroom shelf. Xander let her go, but warned her that she had ten minutes to return or she'd be left. Tara had to forcibly prevent her from taking her suitcase back with her.

Spike arrived at the height of another uproar and handled it easily. "Oi! You lot shut it. We're leaving in twenty minutes whether you're ready or not. If you left something behind, tough! Xander!"

Xander popped out of a nearby meeting room. "Yes Master. I'm here." Xander had taken to calling Spike "Master" in certain situations as it seemed to help emphasize his status.

"Get this rabble into the basement right away. Don Antonio made arrangements for us to take the train to New York." Spike pitched his voice so everyone in the group could hear him. "We'll take the old subway to Union Station and get on the car in the lowest level. The car is Don Antonio's personal car and there's another car for the stable and any demons who are sun proof. Come on, get a move on."

Xander just nodded then turned to start directing the various groups. He'd finally given up on keeping everyone in one huge group and divided them up into male and female stable members, and each class of demon in their own group. He'd put Tara in charge of the two stable groups, and Bud in charge of all the demon groups. He was in charge of all the vampires, and was having difficulties with them.

This time it was just one time too many. Xander told an old fledge to start putting all the luggage on a cart so they could move it to the basement in the freight elevator and he just started to walk off, sneering as he did so. Xander snapped. He turned around and grabbed the vampire by one arm. He spun him around with a jerk and demanded, "You got a problem, or are you just on the rag?"

"You're not my Master. I don't take orders from humans." He sneered again and started away from Xander.

Xander just sighed; he'd known this was coming sooner or later; he just wished it had come later. He pulled a stake from his coat and staked the vampire without a blink. He walked away, snapping at a nearby demon, "Clean up that mess."

Everyone he got near from then on was very cooperative and obedient. Xander got the procession organized and into the subway without further incident.

It only took them twenty minutes on the subway to get to Union Station. Since the subway was one that had been abandoned by humans in the '60's, no one remarked on them at all. They exited the subway in a sub-basement of Union Station and were guided to the train car by a demon who looked a bit like Clem. Xander greeted him calmly and passed on the order to keep together and follow as quietly as possible. He heard Spike snarking at Timmins who replied in a murmur too soft for Xander to hear. He was just glad that Spike was being cooperative; he knew how much it galled Spike to follow any orders but his own.

It only took Xander and Timmins another fifteen minutes to get everyone sorted. Since Xander had divided the once milling mob into groups and let nature take its course to decide on a leader, all he now had to do was gather the group leaders together and tell them what needed to be done then leave it up to them to do it. Luggage was loaded in moments and the different groups sorted themselves onto either the sun proof main car or into the common passenger car.

Xander was glad that the Master's car was a double; it made it so much easier to keep everyone content, if not exactly happy. He was going to punch the next being who said anything resembling, "My status demands...." even if it was Spike himself.

Spike wandered up just then and wrapped an arm around Xander's waist. "How's it going, luv? All on board?"

Xander leaned his head against Spike's and grumbled, "Yeah, but can't we leave some more of these idiots behind? I'd love to lose about ten of them; they're way too status conscious."

Spike shook his head. "I'd love to lose all of them, but it's not going to happen. I've got my reputation to uphold and traveling in comfort and speed doesn't do it. We've got to have a retinue, like some imbecilic foreign prince or something." He smirked at Xander, upside down. "Otherwise, no one will respect us. Status. Stupid, but most vampires are stuck in the middle ages. It'll all be over soon and we can go home. Relax."

"Feh! Easy for you to say."

"But not to do. Come have a drink. We'll be pulling out in about ten minutes, or so, Dominic said."

Xander just grunted and moved toward their compartment at the back of the car. As he went he checked on other beings. The car was an old-fashioned 'company' car with seats in the forward third, small compartments, three on each side in the middle third and the last third was a very nice 'bed-sit' with its own toilet.

Everything was mahogany, brass, or slate. The furniture was Neo-mid-Victorian and plush. Xander had a small moment of fear that the chair he'd sat on would engulf him completely. Spike just settled in the other chair, exclaiming, "Now that's more like it."

Timmins brought a tea tray and put it down beside the last empty chair, took his place, and started pouring tea. He handed around the cups and then sandwich plates with egg salad and sliced chicken finger sandwiches as well as some cookies.

"There!" He glanced around in satisfaction. "I'm truly glad to be out of Chicago before everything goes to hell. Don Antonio is not happy."

Xander snorted then exclaimed, "Is that what you call it? I'd call it pissed."

Timmins sipped his tea for a moment before commenting blandly, "He is what is usually called flaming pissed. I do believe that he's going to wipe out that whole branch of his clan. Prune the rot before it spreads so to speak."

Xander thought about that for a moment. "I think he left it a bit too long. He's not going to be pleased. I'm glad we're out of there." He handed his cup to Timmins. "More tea, please."

Timmins poured the tea for Xander, warmed Spike's cup then leaned back. "Sad, really. He's a good person and a fine High Master. He doesn't like messes like this. Unlike some others I've dealt with. Shame, that's what it is."

Spike nodded. "Yeah, and now you see why I nip opposition in the bud. Stake one, or stake a bunch. And if you leave it long enough, you've got a regular rebellion on your hands with the whole territory in an uproar and mundanes getting involved. Not a pretty picture."

Xander nodded his understanding; he'd faced similar things, on a not so deadly scale, when he was foreman. He remembered that job with fondness.

"And I'm... what? A weapon? An Executioner?"

Spike watched Xander for a few seconds, his narrow-eyed gazed making him glower back. "You're my Companion. My Dextera. My right hand. The Enforcer, if you will. You don't take shite from anyone; not even me, if you think I'm wrong."

Xander nodded his understanding. "Ok, I get it. So, you're not mad at me for staking that guy earlier?"

"No." Spike shook his head. "I'm mad you didn't do it to someone sooner. You got to get tough with 'em or they'll walk all over you. And you're certainly not a door mat. Get it through your head that you really can do no wrong. If you mess up, I'll rub your nose in it in private."

Xander snorted into his teacup. "I remember a few not so private punishments. How's that work?"

Spike sighed. "I needed to make it plain to everyone that you're mine alone. And get it through your hard head that you belong to me, no questions allowed. See?"

Xander nibbled at his lower lip for a moment, making Spike long to kiss it. "Ok, I see. I'm a thrall and there's some things that I just can't do, or I'll hurt myself. And... I get it, I just don't like it."

"I don't either. Doesn't fit my plans at all, but what is, is. We deal. But, I don't think the spell was well cast, in fact I know it wasn't. Badly cast spells ..." He shrugged. "Some cause all sorts of problems and hang around forever. Others ..." He shrugged again. "They cause havoc, too, but they fade away."

Xander glanced from Timmins, who was looking disgusted; to Spike, who was looking very self-satisfied. "Ok, so which one are we dealing with? And may I just say, being your thrall, while now my main goal in life, didn't turn out to be so very awful."

Spike curled his tongue over his teeth, a sure sign that he was feeling smug. "Not sure yet, but the Seer thinks the thrall is fading. Tara wouldn't give an opinion as she doesn't have any experience with fucked up mojo."

Xander snickered at that. "Only Willow. I swear I don't know what she thinks. I wish I could ask her but she's still in England, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is, and likely to stay there for the foreseeable future. She's really out of control; the Elders aren't best pleased with her progress. She's just too stubborn for her own good. She thinks she knows a great deal more than she does."

Xander gazed into his tea as he said, sadly, "She's very powerful and she's confused power with knowledge. I wish... I wish she'd never found out she's a witch. She's much too dangerous as she is."

Spike reached over and patted Xander on the arm. "I'm sorry, luv, I know it makes you sad... and angry, by the scent of you."

"Not your fault. And, yeah, I'm angry. Why couldn't she just leave well enough alone? The results of that stupid spell could have been so very much worse." He sipped at the tea, made a face, and demanded. "And why, may I ask, am I drinking tea? Timmins, coffee, please."

Timmins just got up and went to make coffee, leaving Xander in a blue funk and Spike grumbling about, "Stupid, red-headed, idiot witches," into his cup. He also wondered how the hell they'd gotten on to the whole subject.

.

It took them over 20 hours to make the trip, but it wasn't a trial for most of them. The cars were in excellent condition and very comfortable. Unlike airplanes, all the seats reclined completely and there was plenty of leg room. They could get up easily and walk the length of the car comfortably, without jogging elbows.

There was no dining car and the individuals in the common car weren't allowed into the private one, but there was a snack cart that went up and down the aisle every two hours, dispensing drinks, chips and nuts. There was also a nice meal provided, for those who could eat human food. Those who couldn't had either packed their own or didn't need to eat very often. Xander silently thanked his lucky stars that he had turned that facet of the trip over to Timmins.

At the moment he was sitting at the dining table that let down from one side of the compartment. He had arrangements to make, again. This time he had to get the whole group from Penn Station to their hotel. He was hoping that someone would meet them; but, since there was no signal on his phone at the moment, he wasn't sure. Hopefully, he'd have signal soon; he'd set the Blackberry to beep when there was one.

A soft beep dragged him from his thoughts and set him into another round of organizational frenzy. He grumbled softly. How the hell had he managed to wind up as a damn tour director?

"Walk this way, please. And we're walking... walking..." Xander mumbled as he gathered his nerve to do this again.

"Xan? Luv? What the hell are you mumbling about?" Spike sauntered over to run one hand through Xander's long hair.

Xander laughed at himself then turned to put an arm around Spike. "I feel like a tour guide. On the bus, off the bus, back on, and here we go again. I'm wondering how the hell I'm going to get this collection of idiots, demons, mutants, and deviants from Penn to the hotel. In fact... you know, I just realized that I don't know which hotel we're in even. Shit!"

Spike turned Xander to face him and shook him gently. "Don't worry about it. We're to be met at the train station by someone from Master Xavier's staff. It's up to them to get us from Penn to where ever. Come on, now, smile for me? Yeah?"

Xander managed a smile and breathed a small sigh of relief. He really hadn't been looking forward to trying to get all 'his' people from Penn Station to an unknown location. He was glad all he had to do was stand back and relax.

And relax he did; the guide was waiting when the train pulled into one of the lowest levels of the station, a level that hadn't been used since the '50's, or so everyone thought. It was in regular use by various demon and vampire clans. The guide introduced himself as Vlad Tomkin which made everyone laugh. He just smiled and remarked that he'd already heard several centuries of jokes so could they move along. Xander glowered at the few who seemed inclined to make some remark or joke; they all cringed and crumpled.

The trip to the hotel was by another abandoned subway. Xander wondered how many large cities had such things and why then decided that it really didn't make much difference. It was all a fait accompli.

It took them nearly 45 minutes to get to the hotel, another of those invisible places that only the underworld seemed to see. This place was under the Soho subway station. It had once been a stop on the older line but had been abandoned in favor of a newer, more modern station nearer to the surface. The main lobby was the old station and the rest of the hotel had been dug out of the ground, the new construction on the subway used to hide the dirt.

They were checked in and shown to their rooms in record time. Xander left getting everyone to a room to the staff, just taking a key to the Imperial suit from the bell boy and following the luggage cart, keeping an eye on things by habit. Spike sauntered along after him, humming softly. Timmins had disappeared with Vlad as soon as they got to the desk.

Xander didn't worry about Timmins much; he was probably off seeing if the rooms were clean enough or something. Which, they found out the second the doors opened, was exactly what he was doing.

Xander turned to Spike. "How the hell does he do that? We've only been in the door... what? Ten minutes?"

Spike shrugged elegantly. "Don't know. Don't care. Just glad he does. I'm knackered, and hungry."

Xander shoved his shoulder gently. "Well, go visit the stable. I'll stay here and hold down the fort."

Spike left with a swagger and a wave. Xander flopped onto the nearest soft surface and sighed. He just hoped that there wasn't another flap here. He didn't think he could handle it. He decided that, once he got back to Nevada, it was going to be a long time before he left again.

Timmins looked in on him and smiled. This young man was turning out well. He was happy for both him and his master. He eased back into the bedroom and dialed room service. He ordered a half-pound bacon cheese burger with everything and a double order of fries. He had to laugh slightly. Xander had been taking Master's Blood long enough now that his metabolism was half again as fast as it should be. There wasn't an ounce of extra fat on him anywhere. But he ate like a horse as the saying goes. Timmins thought for a moment then ordered Xander a slice of chocolate cake topped with fresh strawberries.

Xander perked up when the knock on the door sounded, but he answered the knock by demanding who was there before he opened the door. The bellman didn't say anything about that; he just pushed his cart in the door and took the stainless steel dome off with a flourish. Xander handed him ten dollars and dismissed him. He sighed in appreciation; now that he was really healthy he was allowed an occasional treat of burgers, pizza, or some other not so healthy food. He knew he was going to have indigestion, but he really didn't care.

After finishing his burger and fries, Xander burped once and headed for the bathroom to take a shower and find something comfortable to wear. He was really glad that Xavier wasn't demanding like the other two High Masters were; he had sent word that he didn't need to see them until tomorrow night. Xander thanked who ever was listening out there that this was so. Right now, all he wanted was some hot water then comfortable sweats and idiot box on demand.

He got everything he wanted; Spike didn't come back until late. He fell into bed next to Xander and dropped off after tugging Xander into a hug.

.

They slept all day and got up in their morning, or at about 6pm. Xander grumbled that it was too early, but rose when Spike poked him. They breakfasted on eggs, American fries, toast, bacon, and juice. Xander had coffee, but Spike insisted on his own personal tea blend. Timmins, of course, had plenty with him. He served breakfast with a satisfied expression on his face.

He'd had a great time terrorizing the staff. Now, they literally cringed when he came close. And at least half the staff was vampires or human-looking demons. He smiled to himself. He'd never be a High Master, no matter how old he got, so he satisfied himself with being a servant to greatness. He found he didn't mind this at all.

If you were a High Master, it was a lot of very hard work, and the chances of getting dusted were nearly tripled. He liked his position just fine, close to the seat of power, but not in the spotlight. He watched his two boys for a moment then went to prepare their clothing for the court visit.

He enjoyed his job; he enjoyed seeing his boys looking handsome and strong. His job was to make sure that they had everything they needed as soon as they needed it. He rummaged through their clothing, wondering what sort of image they needed to project. After some thought, he decided that he needed to contact some of his sources; Vlad's hints hadn't done anything but wind him up.

It didn't take his contacts long to clue him in. Things were not going well in NYC; High Master Xavier was not 'well'. He was very old and was beginning to change in ways that made his minions unhappy. Master Heinrich of the Aurelian line came to mind.

Timmins put out bullet proof vests for both Spike and Xander. A vest could protect a vampire from being staked, the stab plate made sure of that. He also put out Xander's tachi, gladius, 93R's, and knives. He even put out a few things for Spike. He was feeling very paranoid.

When Xander and Spike saw the array of armaments they both blinked, but neither one of them argued; they just got dressed.

Xander tugged on his lapel for the second time in as many seconds. "Why do I feel underdressed? We're supposed to go alone? Just the two of us? Why?"

Spike grimaced at the flurry of questions. "I don't know why, all I know is the formal invitation, which I received just an hour ago, said, 'High Master Spike and Companion.' I'm not happy. One, you're not just my Companion, the invite should have said Dextera. And two, Timmins wouldn't have put all this out without some indication that they'll be needed. And three, I don't like not being allowed to bring Bud and Tara. Not comfortable with this at all."

Xander shrugged his shoulders, trying to settle his harness more comfortably. "I don't like this either, I've got a nasty feeling about this. Did Xavier say why we're to come alone?" He shifted again; his gladius was bunching his coat between his shoulder blades.

"Something about a surprise." Spike frowned.

"I get the feeling that it's not the streamers and confetti type of surprise. More like the blow up in your face kind. This is not good. Really, really, not good." Xander scowled and headed for the door. "Ok, let's get this show on the road. Sooner we get there the sooner we can get back. And I'm not taking guff from anyone. I'm staking first and asking questions later, if at all."

Spike just grunted his agreement and followed him.

.

They made their way back to the lobby and were directed to a side corridor which opened into a neat covered garage. Their ride was waiting for them there complete with chauffeur. The stretch Rolls Royce limo was black with a burgundy interior. Neither Spike nor Xander paid any attention to it. They were too busy trying to figure out what was making Timmins, and thus them, so very nervous.

They drove through the night streets of New York City in silence. Xander didn't even sight see; he just sat still, nibbling at his lip in worry. He wasn't afraid, just a bit worried and more than a bit annoyed. He had plans for his visit here, but if things heated up too much, they'd be headed back to Nevada A-SAP. Not that he minded that too much.

Their arrival at Xavier's Residence was greeted by one nervous minion, who opened the car door then just stood looking at them. Xander got out first and put himself between Spike and the open door until he got out as well.

"Not liking this." Xander singsonged soft enough that only Spike heard.

Spike just snorted and walked through the door, coat tails swinging. He'd rejected the suit Timmins had put out and dressed instead in his duster, black jeans, black t-shirt and heavy boots. Xander didn't look like he was headed for court, either. He was wearing an exact copy of Spike's duster only in brown, and his jeans, t-shirt and overshirt were brown, too. That dark chocolate brown that Spike loved to see him in.

They walked side by side through the open foyer of the residence, looking like death wrapped up in leather. They were immediately dubbed the Scourge of the Americas.

Xander held the throne room door open for Spike, who walked through it and glanced around. Something didn't feel right, but he couldn't figure out what it was. It didn't take him long to find out.

Xavier was seated in an alcove at the opposite end of the room, only approachable from the front.

"Come, come in. Closer." The thing that used to be Xavier motioned for Xander to approach him, ignoring Spike completely. Xander balked like a mule, no way was he getting too close to that. Xander was later to explain, "He looked like the Crypt Keeper only vamped and really, really oozy." The once handsome master had withered into a nearly toothless near skeleton; the only remaining teeth were his fangs which had elongated freakishly. His skin was pale and he had oozing sores on his chest, legs, and arms. They must have been fairly painful as he was naked to the waist and wore a loincloth-like garment.

Spike glared at the master then at Xander; his snapped, "Obey." sent Xander moving toward Master Xavier. He figured out why in a second.

Xander moved closer to Xavier and noticed that there was a small Japanese woman bound into an uncomfortable position lying at his feet one step down from the top of the dais and just outside of the alcove. She glowered at Xander then turned her head to glower at Spike as well. Xander carefully skirted her. As soon as he did that, the smell hit him. Not only did Master Xavier have some sort of rotting disease, he smelled rotten, too. Xander nearly gagged.

Spike took a moment after he ordered Xander to obey Xavier to look around. None of the court looked happy; in fact, most of them looked variations of murderous. He knew the court was on the verge of mutiny, but who was going to take over? Then he decided he really didn't care. Master Xavier was a dead vampire.

Xander stood right in front of Xavier and waited.

"Come closer, pretty. I want you. Your power, your loyalty, your very soul will be mine. Ignore that insignificant insect you called master. I will train you correctly, your blood will heal me, and you will cherish your place at my feet." He tried to smile, but only managed a lecherous grimace.

Xander shrugged. "I get to stand beside you, or no deal."

Of course Master Xavier threw a tizzy as Timmins called them, screaming that Xander would do as he was told and be where he was told to be. Xander looked bored; Spike eased closer, hidden by Xander's broad shoulders and wide coat tails. The court stayed silent.

Xander eyed Master Xavier and waited for him to wind down. He finally did and Xander glanced at the Japanese girl, she looked about 16, but since she was a vampire, she could be any age. "Who's the chick?"

"Chick? What... oh, you mean my so treacherous Dextera? Her name is unimportant since your first task will be to kill her."

Xander didn't turn a hair. "Why? I don't even know her, why should I kill her? Just because you say?" He shrugged irritably. "Convince me."

Xavier snarled, "I don't need to convince you. You've been allowed to do too much on your own. I'll correct that soon. You do as your Master tells you. Now."

Xander shrugged again. It irritated Xavier which kept his attention off Spike. Xander just hoped Spike knew what he was doing and hoped he was doing it soon.

"Make me. I'm Spike's, not yours." Xander prepared to do battle and it was a good thing he had. Xavier rushed him, moving so fast that Xander almost lost track of him. Xander thanked Spike's blood for the hundredth time; without it, he'd be dead. He just managed to skip out of Xavier's arms reach.

As it was, Xander had managed to infuriated Xavier enough that he stepped out of his protection and Spike nailed him.

The fight was quick and vicious. Spike attacked Xavier who tried to bite him right off. Spike laughed at him and punched him in the face. Then the fight got so fast that even the vampires couldn't really follow what was happening. The end was very clear, however. Spike had Xavier pinned to the floor. He slammed his head into the floor a few times then just twisted his head off. He wiped the resultant dust off his hands onto the suit of a nearby vampire.

"Well, that settles that. Xander, free the pretty lady and let's find out what the hell is going on around here." Spike started to step into the alcove but changed his mind before he even mounted the dais. The smell was atrocious to his sensitive nose.

Xander cut the woman's bonds and helped her up. He knew that she was Xavier's Dextera, but that was all. She staggered a bit, but managed to keep her feet with Xander's hand on her arm. She bowed slightly to Xander then turned to Spike.

"What will you do now? Are you taking over the territory?"

Spike snorted. "What would I do with two territories separated by half a continent? No, I'm going to straighten up this mess."

"Then we're going home." Xander's interruption wasn't welcome, but he didn't care. Enough was enough.

"I'll deal with you later." Then Spike turned his shoulder to Xander and addressed the court. "I can see that things haven't been going well here for quite some time. I'm not here to take over. I have one territory and I don't need another."

A voice called from the back, "Then what are we supposed to do for a Master?"

Spike gritted his teeth and grasped his patience with both hands; beside him Xander stiffened. "Your Dextera usually takes over, unless they get killed in the fighting. In this case, she's right there, yeah?"

"Yes, I am right here. My name is Natsuko, I gave up my family name when I became a vampire. What do you want from me?"

Spike just looked her over. "Prove that you're worthy of taking over the Eastern Seaboard Territory."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, of course." She made an elegant motion with one hand. "Please feel free to circulate, ask questions, I wish to refresh myself. I will return in one half of an hour." She bowed, turned, and left, not waiting for Spike's permission.

Xander raised an eyebrow, but was secretly reassured. This delicate looking lady was no pushover, no matter how it seemed. He followed Spike as he wandered around the room. He spoke to some, glared at others, and avoided being mobbed by some fancy foot work. The general consensus was that Natsuko was more than capable of taking over the territory. She'd been the actual master for the last five years or more, keeping Master Xavier from destroying the territory and managing the day to day affairs for him. Spike, distracted by his questioning, didn't notice the three vampires until they were right on top of him.

Xander, on the other hand, was well aware of what was happening. The three vampires didn't stand a chance; one fell before Xander's gladius, another fell to Spike, who simply jammed his hand through his chest, plucking out his heart. The third was torn apart by his fellows who were tired of the fear and desperation of the last few years. Spike nodded to Xander and they retreated to the base of the dais to wait for Natsuko.

It took her a bit longer than the thirty minutes she'd requested, but when she entered the room, she was magnificent. She had dressed in kimono. Not the colorful fancy dress kimono that Americans would expect. She dressed in dark navy blue kimono, the sort that a married lady would wear. The fabric was rich, heavy silk brocade. She carried a short, ninja-style sword in one hand.

Xander noted her stance with approval; she was ready for anything. Except what happened next.

Spike moved from behind Xander and bent one knee to her. He smiled and announced, "All hail, Natsuko-sama, High Mistress of the Eastern Seaboard Territory."

Xander swept his coat tails out of his way and knelt beside Spike. Natsuko beamed. Being acknowledged by another High Master and his Dextera was a great honor.

"Please stand. Thank you so much. I'll attend to clan business soon. Is there anything I can do to make your visit more pleasurable?"

Spike rose, bowed slightly, and just remarked, "I think you need to tend to your clan business. Xan and I will take in a show or two, do some shopping, and go home."

Natsuko nodded slightly. "My apologies, your trip has saved us, but I'm afraid I must be unbearably rude and tell you that I truly don't have time to entertain you. When you are ready to leave, let me know and I'll make appropriate arrangements. Until then, I'll have a car and driver assigned to you. Now, I'm sorry for such rudeness, but you really should leave." She bowed deeply then signaled to someone standing to the side. The person she signaled was a tall, young, black man with very odd scars on his face. Xander recognized them as tribal, but not which tribe. Spike didn't recognize them and couldn't have cared less if he had.

"This way. Your Rolls is available, but I'll be driving." He turned and led them to the garage.

Xander looked around then had to ask, "Ok, why isn't the Residence on the subway? That doesn't seem like a hard thing to do."

"It used to be... until the old master got so paranoid that he had the entryway bricked up. It's... inconvenient. Perhaps Mistress Natsuko will have it reinstated."

Xander kept his temper as best he could, but this useless maundering was beginning to fray his last nerve. "Could we get on the road, please?"

Spike was startled by this, Xander was usually very even tempered and his quick switch from polite to curt was unusual. He hid his surprise well.

"Fine, we'll get going as soon as the car's here."

Xander blinked, what was Spike on about, the car was right there. Then he realized that Spike wasn't about to walk to the car, he wanted the car driven the twenty or so feet from where it was to where they were. The driver went to get the car, pulling up next to them in only moments.

Spike got in the car with Xander on his heels. He settled into his seat and started to say something.

Xander interrupted him harshly. "Not a word. We're leaving as soon as we can get packed. The progression is officially ended. I'm tired of this crap."

Spike started to object and found himself faced with a Xander that he'd never seen, firm and furious, he snarled right in Spike's face, "Look, I know I'm the man and you're the master but your safety is my first concern. I'm not arguing with you, I'm telling you. We'll be back at the hotel in half an hour or so. I'll be on my phone until then, making arrangements to get us back to Las Vegas. Timmins will help me. But you're not setting foot out of the hotel without me, Bud, and half a dozen other guards. I don't trust that woman to keep all her childer in line." Spike opened his mouth to say something, but Xander interrupted him before he could do more than say, "They're…"

"I don't care if they're childer, minions, or ducks. I don't trust them. We're going home and that's it. Punish me later, I'm busy now." Xander pulled his Blackberry from his pocket and started texting. Spike started to talk again but Xander just pointed to his own face, said, "Resolve face. No argument," and went back to work.

Spike sighed and gave up. He hadn't been going to argue with Xander, anyway. He flopped back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "Wasn't going to argue, just wanting to know if we could fly somehow."

Xander glanced at Spike then shrugged. He reached up and tapped on the glass between the passenger compartment and the driver's seat. It lowered and Xander just asked, "Hey, any way to get us a plane that seats 125, vamp proof and all that?"

"I'll see as soon as I deliver you to the hotel. It should be possible." He started to raise the window and silently congratulated himself on placating the High Master's whatever he was.

Xander didn't allow himself to be placated. "Don't see if you can do it. I want a plane, a train, a fucking bus, out of this town as soon as you can manage it. Preferable before we're done packing. Got me?"

"Yes. I understand. I'll have something arranged in two hours at most. Will that satisfy?"

"It'll do. It'll take that long for me to get our traveling circus organized." Xander put his Blackberry away, having finished texting Bud, Tara, Timmins, and the group leaders.

They maintained a strained silence until they were in the garage attached to the hotel.

Timmins met them there with a serious expression. "What happened? I was told that things were not well with the master, but now that it was bad enough that we needed more than minimal precautions."

Xander glowered at nothing then snapped, "Well, they were wrong. He wanted me; he got dusted. His Dextera is master, or mistress, now. We're leaving as soon as you can get organized."

Timmins just left hurriedly, now understanding what the text had not explained. He'd started the arrangements the second he'd gotten the message and told his questioners that if Xander wanted them packed, they'd better get started. He had already started packing up Xander and Spike; it wouldn't take him long to finish.

Spike opened his mouth to object and found himself slammed up against a pillar with Xander in his face.

"Shut up! I don't care that you're the Master, you're in danger here no matter what they say. You'll do as I tell you; you can have a fit when we get back to Vegas. Now go check on Timmins. I'm not having you dusted, I love you too much. Go!"

Spike shut up and went, a strangely satisfied grin on his face.

.


	39. Chapter 39

Xander sighed wearily; the train was finally pulling into the station at Las Vegas. Arrangements had been made on the way for them to get from the station to the residence. He was exhausted and cranky. Spike was cranky, fading into pissed. All in all, no one was very happy.

After chivying all the lesser personnel onto transport, Xander pushed an equally exhausted Spike into their personal SUV and told Bud to take them home. Bud nodded to Tara and climbed in the driver's seat.

Xander wrapped himself around Spike and announced, "If anyone wakes me before we're home, I'll murder them," then fell asleep. Spike just put his head on Xander's shoulder and went to sleep, too.

The drive took most of an hour, mostly due to traffic. Bud grumbled about the way tourists drove; Tara just dozed on his shoulder.

Bud drove into the underground garage and announced, "Home at last! Thank goodness."

Tara mumbled something and then sat up, sighing and wiping her cheek. She'd drooled on Bud, not that he minded.

He got out and opened the back door. Poking either Spike or Xander to wake them up wasn't a good idea, so he called their names alternately until Spike opened one gold-tinged eye.

"What!"

"We're here. Home again." Bud laughed as Spike scrambled out of the SUV, Xander on his heels.

Xander rubbed sleep out of his eyes and stretched. "Oh, man, am I glad to be home. I want to walk in my gardens and check my shop, but first, I want MY bed. No matter how comfy, it's just not the same. Come on, Spike, let's go."

Spike just chuckled a bit and followed Xander in. He was glad to be home, too.

They bathed, ate something, and retired to bed, exhausted by all the traveling, excitement, and especially by the last two days.

.

Timmins woke early enough that he could make preparations for breakfast, ready to put it together in minutes, so he settled in for a nice cuppa before starting. He heard Xander's footsteps the second he left the bed.

At first he thought Xander was just going to the loo, he never could bring himself to think of it as a bathroom, to him the loo and a bathing chamber were two distinctly different things. He heard the steps turn into the hall so he started making Xander some coffee.

"I'd like to do that, if you don't mind." Xander took the tamper from Timmins' hand and finished tamping the charge. Timmins gave way without comment knowing that Xander found the process of making coffee soothing. By the set of Xander's shoulders, Timmins could tell that Xander was still tense, very tense.

Xander settled at the table with his coffee and watched Timmins as he sliced, diced, and chopped. Omelets were in the making: cheese, tomatoes, onions, ham, and something he didn't recognize, but he was sure it would be good. Timmins never turned out anything but the best.

While he waited for Spike to get up, Xander fidgeted; he felt... off balance was the best he could come up with. It was making him cranky.

"Timmins, how soon will it be breakfast? I'm really hungry." Xander played with his coffee cup.

Timmins was busy with his chopping and didn't look up. "As soon as Master Spike is up. Everything is ready; all I have to do is finish this little bit. It won't take me but a few minutes to finish up. Would you like a side of bacon?"

Xander nodded then said, "Yes, that'd be nice. Look, I'm starving. I'm going to go poke Spike; start cooking."

Timmins looked at Xander for a moment. He really looked on edge. Suddenly he felt as if someone had slid an ice cube down his spine; when was the last time Xander had had Spike's blood? He couldn't remember; in all the travel and excitement they'd forgotten about it. Now Xander was beginning to suffer from withdrawal. This was very bad.

Xander left the room before Timmins could say anything. Timmins just got a new scalpel from a small box and a shot glass from the cupboard.

Xander burst into the bedroom and made it to the bed in two strides. "Spike! Up! I'm starving and you're..." He didn't finish as Spike grabbed him and dragged him into the bed.

"Ok, Ok! I'm up. Noisy brat." Spike pulled away from Xander a bit, gave him a sharply assessing look and demanded, "Are you alright? You don't look right."

Xander rolled off Spike and stood up, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, shoulder to elbow and back again. "I... I'm really, really hungry and kinda jumpy. Maybe it's just too much excitement for too many days, but... I feel like that one cup of coffee was really a whole pot of espresso." He gave Spike a slightly panicked look. "And I'm feeling worse by the second. What's wrong?"

Spike nearly levitated out of the bed. "Tell me all the symptoms! Now!"

Xander grabbed at Spike to keep both of them from tumbling to the floor. "Easy! Damn, I feel shaky, really hungry, nervous... I'd swear I was on drug withdrawal, but you know I don't do drugs."

Spike growled harshly, "Fuck, I'm such an idiot. Come on."

Xander submitted to being dragged out of the room with only a, "Hey!" in protest. Spike hauled him to the kitchen yelling for Timmins.

Timmins just handed Spike the scalpel and glass. Xander blinked once then sighed, "I'm an idiot. I should have remembered."

Spike cut his wrist and started to hold it over the glass; Xander just took hold of Spike's arm and hand and, after a glance at Spike for permission, brought it to his mouth. He sucked gently, afraid to hurt Spike, and felt the warm blood flood his mouth. He swallowed, sucked again and felt relief of symptoms he hadn't realized were there. He took a third swallow then felt Spike gently pull away a bit. He released his grip and leaned back against the counter. He felt so much better already that he couldn't understand how he'd gotten so bad without realizing.

Spike smiled at him. "Better, luv? Fuck me for a fool. I completely forgot about giving you blood. How could I be so stupid? 'M sorry. Timmins, why didn't you remind me?"

Timmins hung his head, expecting punishment. "I forgot as well. I'm very sorry, Master; shall I await you in the garage?"

Xander opened his mouth to ask why then shut it again when he realized what Timmins expected. "Well, we'll both meet you, because I forgot, too."

Spike just swatted Timmins in the head. "There! Punishment! Now, where the hell is my breakfast?"

"It'll be ready in a trice. Toast or crumpet? You should put something on."

Spike shrugged. "Whatever there is." He headed down the hall to get his robe.

Timmins nodded once. "Toast it is, then."

Spike returned and settled in his chair. He turned to Xander, and said, "Well, the last week was fun... not. I'm looking at a quick visit to..."

He didn't get any farther because Xander exploded from his chair and grabbed him. Knocking aside a small tea cart, he slammed Spike against the wall. "No! No visits to anywhere. We're staying right here in Las Vegas for the foreseeable future. Got me?" He banged Spike against the wall again to emphasize his statement.

Spike winced; Xander was a lot stronger than he should be, especially since he had missed Master's blood for a week. "Ow! Yes, luv, I got you." Xander put Spike down. "Didn't need to be so rough. I was going to say that I was looking at a quick visit to Peaches, but never mind. Calm down. We'll stay right here."

Xander plopped down in his chair, obviously upset. "Well, I hope so. I never, never, want to go through something like that damn progression again. I was nearly sick with worry, or so hyped on nerves my skin crawled. Never, ever again. If we visit anyone, it'll be a surprise. New Orleans wasn't too bad, but both Chicago and New York set my teeth on edge. I managed to keep it together, but it was really a near run thing."

Spike rubbed the back of his head, which was still a bit tender. "Oh. Well, we'll stay close to home for the next decade or so. Didn't realize you hated it so much. Sorry."

Xander sighed and rubbed his face. "Sorry about roughing you up."

Spike snorted, "If that's what you call roughing someone up, you're a poof."

Xander just laughed at Spike and shrugged, "But I'm a manly poof." He turned to Timmins. "Where's my food? Hungry poofter here."

Timmins snorted turned to the stove top and announced. "Two minutes. Don't break anymore furniture."

Spike smirked at Xander. "Probably won't. Another of the symptoms of blood withdrawal is an uncertain temper and moodiness."

Xander just crossed his arms over his chest and grunted. He decided to just let them tease; if he got too cranky, Timmins was liable to burn the omelets and he was hungry.

"And sulking." Timmins plopped a plate in front of Xander with a smirk. "Here, you get the first one.

Xander grinned and dug in. He felt better after blood and that small stress relief. He felt a bit bad about roughing Spike up, but Spike was a big vampire and could protect himself, especially with Xander there to watch his back. Besides, he was well aware that; to Spike, it could be regarded as foreplay.

Spike accepted his omelet and started to eat. He nibbled at a bit of onion then sighed and put his fork down. He shoved his plate over to Xander, saying that he wasn't really hungry. Xander slid Spike's omelet onto his plate and continued eating.

Before Xander was done they heard Giles' voice from the main room. Spike started to yell back, but Timmins frowned at him in a repressive way so he just let Timmins do his job and bring Giles into the kitchen.

Giles settled in a chair, accepted a cup of tea, and watched for a moment. Xander was still stuffing his face while Spike looked on with a fond expression on his face. He wondered if Spike even realized it was there.

"Well, delightful tea, Timmins. Master Spike." Spike grimaced. "Don't make that face. I just wanted to know if you wanted a verbal report or a written one, or both."

Spike held out his cup and Timmins refreshed it. Spike sipped his tea for a moment while Giles waited patiently. "I think verbal now with a written one for the records. By the way, how's reorganizing the record keeping going?"

Giles smirked in a very un-librarian-like way. "Not bad, not bad at all. After I let Ripper out on a few stubborn sorts. The casinos under your protection are doing quite well. The court has been quiet and well behaved, as has the major part of the populace. There are a few rumbles here and there, but nothing to put a finger on. We'll have to wait until the situation ripens a bit. A few of your subjects have asked about Xander specifically. He's very well liked by most and actually feared by those that don't like him. As a Dextera, he's better than any other in the US.

"So, to sum up. All's quiet on the Western Front." Giles smiled. "The reworking of the record keeping system is going well. And you don't even need to hold court; I took a bit of a liberty and set up a system of petitions. If someone has a problem, they fill out a petition. The petition is reviewed by me; since Xander has finished all his requirements, I don't have much to do so it's no imposition. I then either bump it up to Xander, or solve it myself. If Xander can't solve it, it comes to you. Is that alright?"

Spike nodded, eyes sparkling. "That's fine. Good idea. Question. What requirements; boy graduated high school. Fairly low grades true, but he did get a diploma."

Giles' look of satisfaction made Spike raise an eyebrow. "He has a better grade on a GED and an Associates Degree in Business Administration. I'd like to see him go on to get a BS in something."

"Sneaky bastard, aren't you." Spike grinned at Giles in undisguised pleasure. Xander just mumbled something around his last mouthful of omelet. "What, luv?"

Xander swallowed then said, "I knew something was up when you threw all those tests at me at once. No one needs that many progress tests. Why'd you do that?" Xander held up a hand when Giles started to protest. "I'm not mad, just curious."

"Oh, well. You do have a terrible case of test anxiety. I just told you they were progress tests so you wouldn't get nervous. You did very well on your GED, a very commendable 97%. And your practice set was nearly perfect. I didn't grade that, I sent it off. The graders were impressed."

Xander preened a bit, but Spike gave Giles a blank look. "What's a practice set?"

"Accounting. It's where you get a mess of stuff and have to turn it into books for a business. Hated it. And you were no help."

"Is that what that mess of little jibblets of paper was? I was wondering what it was doing all over your desk. Never touched it, I swear. I'm not sure who messed it up. No fun trying to sort it all out."

Xander made a face. Timmins just sighed. "I believe that was the young one I took on. She's only supposed to dust and sweep, leaves me more time for more important things. Like gossip, and don't laugh. How do you think I know what I do? But she saw fit to dust your desk, against my explicit orders. I apologize."

Xander shrugged. "Good practice anyway. It's not going to be the last time my desk gets disarranged by someone. So, I did get a good grade on it and that's all that counts. But..." He turned to Giles. "My education is over. I swear, never more. I learned how to learn, which is more important than anything else. I do want to keep up with some of my reading, but Spike is going to pick out my books for a while, unless there's something that you think I just have to read." He smiled at Giles and stood up. "I'm going to go on the prowl, take a look around, check in at a few places, that sort of thing. Spike? Wanna come along?"

Spike grinned, a feral and scary sort of thing. "Sure, why not? Give the places a once over, scare the opposition. Yeah?"

Xander grinned. "You got it."

Giles got a completely vicious look on his face and stood up too. "I'm coming, too. I'm sick of being the nice guy."

Xander blinked then exclaimed, "Oh, goodie, Ripper's coming out to play."

.

And Ripper did come out. Xander blinked at Giles who was wearing threadbare, nearly white jeans, and a dark blue t-shirt with a plaid flannel shirt over it. He was wearing scuffed motorcycle boots and carrying a leather jacket over his shoulder. But the thing that struck him the most was the well used shoulder holster of dark brown leather and olive cotton strapping he was wearing. Spike just grinned.

Xander pointed to a side table near the door. "You can have anything there except my Berettas." Giles nodded and turned to examine the offerings critically. "There's a couple of nice knives there, too. I can give you sheaths for them, just pick and I'll send Timmins."

Giles nodded absently, not looking up from his choice of arm, which he was stripping down in a very workman-like manner.

"You implying that my kit is less than clean?" Xander's tone of voice was light. "I'll have you know that Timmins cleans them after I have." Giles shot him a sharp glance; Xander smirked back. Timmins just cleared his throat and looked embarrassed.

Spike burst out laughing and leaned against a small table to keep from falling down. "Timmins, shame on you." Spike forced himself to stop laughing. "But, ta ever so."

Xander just stuck his tongue out at Spike.

When Giles was finished selecting weapons, Timmins brought him the appropriate harness and they were on their way.

Xander seemed to have a mental list of the places he wanted to check on. Spike hadn't paid much attention to Xander's activities, only asking once in a while if he needed any help. He always said that he didn't, so Spike had let him do his thing. Now he was beginning to wish he'd paid more attention.

The first place they visited was a small diner, Spike wasn't even sure it counted as a 'protectorate', but Xander seemed to think it worthy of his attention. They eased in, looking like grim death on two feet. Only Spike heard a whispered, "Scourge of America in the house."

The owner smiled at Xander as the trio eased in. Spike sauntered up to a booth and settled with his back to the counter. Xander leaned against the wall beside him and Giles turned a chair around and straddled it at the open end of the booth. The owner scuttled up with menus and water.

"Master Xander, please sit. There's no threat here." He seemed to dance in one place for a moment then turned to Spike, exclaiming, "High Master Spike, so nice to have you here. Information? Or just checking? Would you like a nice virgin? If so, I'll see what I can do."

Giles rolled his eyes. Spike flicked his eyes from Giles to the owner then turned his gaze to the table top. Giles eased off the chair and turned, grabbing the owner by the front of his shirt; Ripper snarled, "Don't want a bloody virgin, information, or anything else. Master Xander wanted to come by, talk to him," then he slammed the man against the wall next to Xander and sat back down.

Xander sighed, rubbed his face, and told the owner, whose name he'd never bothered to learn, "Wasn't the smartest move I've seen. You been bothered lately?"

The nameless owner shuddered, shook his head, and asked, "Who's the... the other guy?"

" Rupert Giles, Ripper, but I wouldn't recommend calling him that. He's a friend, advisor, and confidant. Do not get on his wrong side. He's fairly easygoing until you piss him off, then he'll tie your guts in a knot. Like macramé. If you hear anything I should know, you know how to get in touch. Timmins will be around."

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir, my pleasure, sir." And with that the owner scurried back into his office and shut the door.

Xander gave Giles a quirk of his eyebrow then announced, "He's a little weasel, worse than Willy, but his info is top notch. Now that I've touched base with him, we can leave." He headed for the door, tossing over his shoulder, "Never, ever eat here. Ever."

Xander put his arm around Spike as they walked to the next stop. He liked the UnderCity, Las Vegas was 'up' 24/7, but the sun made it hard to get from one casino to another, for the UV challenged at least. The UnderCity was exactly that, under the city of Las Vegas. It had its own casinos, restaurants and clubs, streets, alleys, and homes. They were walking down its equivalent of the Street of Lights.

Xander was obviously on the prowl, just showing himself off, letting people know he was back. Spike strutted along beside him, smirking proudly. Giles didn't do badly himself, slouching and snarling like a pro.

After a block of showing off, Xander nodded across the street and said, "In there. Casino that's been having some trouble with old-style takeover attempts. We need to show ourselves to prove that we actually intend to protect our turf. It's a pain, but with Spike actually here, maybe it'll stick this time."

Spike looked around at the casino. It was small and a bit tattered around the edges, but it was clean and full. "Ok, why is this particular little place that important?"

Xander sighed and eyed Spike for a moment. "Toe, door. Ring a bell?"

Spike shook his head. "No need to get snarky, luv, just askin'."

Xander glared around in general disfavor. "Sorry. It's just that I kinda like the old lady owner. Mrs. Dawson is a nice person and I don't like someone bullying her. And, if you let them take this place over, you'll have trouble with them forever. Kinda like to nip this in the bud."

Giles agreed, saying softly, "If you let them take one place because it's small and not really worth the trouble, they'll get the idea that you're scared of them and there'll be no end to it. It'll mean war. We don't need that."

Spike thought about that for a moment. "I like a nice bit of violence as much as the next vamp, but I don't want innocent tourists and business people caught in the cross fire. So," he rubbed his hands together, "what do we do?"

Xander made a moue of distaste. "We go on the strut and wait. They'll show, rather quickly, I think."

Giles nodded. "Good strategy. Put them on the offensive which puts them in the wrong, no matter what they do. How do you want to work this?''

Xander thought for a moment. "Like I said, go on the prowl. Just walk around like we're observing the operation. Strut it a little. Maybe try out a few machines. You'll do that while Spike and I observe, like we're checking to see if the machines are honest. What do you think?"

"Sounds like a plan to me." Giles glanced around, noting the exits without even thinking about it.

As they wandered up and down the aisles, Giles dropped a coin in a machine from time to time; Spike cocked his head at the first one and announced, "Sounds good to me, no buzzing or other funny noises. Honest machines, or I miss my guess. Floors are clean, too. Anything?" He glanced at Xander who looked around then shook his head. Spike sighed and grumbled, "Looks like it's going to be a long evening."

It turned out, however, that it wasn't. There was trouble within thirty minutes.

It started with a small disturbance near the entry, just some drunk making an ass of himself, but several gamblers nearby got up and moved. Then, somehow, one of the slot machines got knocked over.

Xander stood up at that and moved to a better vantage point. He watched for a moment then moved in to eject the trouble makers.

They refused to be ejected, announcing that they 'had rights'. Xander simply grabbed the biggest one and tossed him bodily into the street, instructing the approaching security man to keep him out.

It only took Xander a few minutes to take care of his business; Spike stayed out of it enjoying the show. Giles observed carefully; his Watcher instincts had him gathering data for a critique later.

Xander turned to check on the group that had turned over the slot and was blocked by an older security man who'd just come into the picture. "Ok, Ok, you two young guys let the pros handle this." Xander gave him a disbelieving gape then backed off. Spike just snorted and let the 'pros' get their asses handed to them.

Xander watched, leaning on Spike, as the two groups of vandals joined forces and had the three available security men whipped in less than thirty seconds. Spike had to wonder if they were 100% human, or some sort of half-breed. After consideration, he decided some sort of half-breed; any human wouldn't have made it down here.

While all this was happening the casino never missed a beat; people closest to the fight got up and moved deeper into the casino while others left to find someplace else to lose their money. Xander watched this with disapproval; this was what ruined a business Rumors that they couldn't keep the casino safe would halve business in no time at all.

They realized that all the disturbance in the front of the casino was a smoke screen for the infiltration of a more serious threat to the casino. The group was comprised of six 'people' for lack of a better word. Three humans, two human-like demons and a Garkl.

The group headed directly for the cash room. Xander caught a glimpse of them out of the corner of his eye and started right after them with Spike and Giles on his heels. By the time they got into the back hall where they were attempting to break in the heavily shielded steel door, the door was well on its way to scrap. The Garkl, which actually resembled a five foot long pill bug, was reared up on it and battering it with several of its legs.

Xander eyed it for a moment then just took the fire axe off the wall and handed it to Spike. "Need this?"

"Ta ever so, luv." Spike took the axe and attacked the Garkl at once. One blow attracted the demon's attention and got it to turn toward Spike. Spike back peddled to get enough room to maneuver and realized that the demon was a lot faster than he'd expected. And that its carapace made it very hard, hard to kill something with armor. He snarled and hacked at it again.

Giles stood back a bit, intending to just pick off the weak ones, but he saw that Spike was having trouble with the Garkl. He realized that Spike was going to try to hack his way through the carapace, but the easiest way to kill one was to flip it over and attack its soft underbelly. He knew that Spike, with his straight forward attack style, would never think of that so he called out, "Spike, flip it over! Its belly is soft!"

Spike nodded his understanding and jammed the axe under the demon and flipped it over. Not only was it easier to attack, but it was relatively defenseless as it couldn't seem to gain any purchase to flip itself back upright. It didn't take him long to finish the demon off, rather messily; that slime was never coming out of the carpeting.

While Spike was dealing with the Garkl, Giles found himself faced with a runner. The demon, or half-breed, Giles wasn't sure which, was near human in appearance, but its skin had a blue-grey cast that was impossible in a human. It was average in every way, average height, average weight, average average. It took Giles on with a confidence that was misplaced and terminal. Giles knifed it through the heart before it knew what hit it. The demon fell down and Giles danced away from its flailing limbs.

Xander, meanwhile, hadn't bothered with such niceties as warning his opponents that he was there; instead he pulled his gladius from its place between his shoulder-blades and cut his first 'man' down without a flinch. The other demon ran, right into Giles, Xander forgot about him and turned on the humans next. One ran, right into Spike, who just grabbed him and held him, the next one tried to fight Xander, pulling a K-bar which made Xander laugh.

"Man, do not bring a toothpick to a sword fight." Xander backed off enough to let the man surrender if he wanted; evidently he didn't as he poked at Xander with the knife. The result was that he died on Xander's sword, a small whimper the only sign that he had. The third man surrendered, begging Xander not to hurt him. Xander glanced at Spike who just gave a tiny shake of his head. Xander let the man live.

Spike took stock of the mess; there was a dead Garkl, a dead not-human, two dead humans and two prisoners to deal with. Xander turned to Giles for help.

"Ok, what now? You're the one that's good at cleaning up messes like this." He ignored Spike's rather indignant, "Excuse me?" and waited.

Giles grinned in a wholly un-Giles like fashion and shrugged, "Let the casino deal. We need to take these two back to the Residence and ask some rather pointed questions. Who's behind this attempted takeover and where are they doing their hiring? Things like that. Let's go."

Xander sighed. "You take care of that. Call someone. I've got a couple or three more places I need to make an appearance in. Spike?"

Spike nodded. "Giles, security here can help you keep trace of them..." He jerked his thumb at the prisoners. "We'll finish Xander's checkup." Giles just nodded. "Well, luv, where to next?"

Xander insisted that they hang around until Bud showed up with some help for Giles, which didn't take as long as Spike had expected. Ten minutes later, they were on their way again.

The next two places they visited were clubs, one a strip joint where Spike leered at all the dancers and got nothing back. Xander talked to an older woman in the back of the club for a few minutes then dragged Spike out, not that Spike complained any.

The other place was a mahjong parlor, of all things; the demons it seemed were very interested in both mahjong and dominoes. The parlor was well lit, clean, and roomy, with wide aisles between the tables, very wide aisles. Xander explained that some of the demons who patronized this place were big. Spike glanced around and saw at least four demon types that couldn't have been seen on the streets above ground without causing a panic. Here, no one even glanced at them.

They were stopped at the back, just outside the hall leading to the office, by a fussy man who refused them entry as the 'Lady' was waiting for Master Spike and his Dextera. When Spike told him who they were, he refused to believe them as they were too young to be so important. Spike snarled, "Vampire here. Older than you by at least 90 years."

Xander sighed, this happened all the time. He didn't look his actual age of just barely 20, unless he made a point of glowering at people. He was actually getting a bit tired of it all and his temper was suffering for it. He wondered vaguely how Spike put up with it, but decided that his reputation preceded him and smoothed the way. He never realized that his own reputation was beginning to be known.

Mr. Fussy told them to wait a moment and disappeared into the hall. He returned moments later and announced that the Lady would see them. Spike snarled at him and shouldered him aside, Xander glowered, making the man cringe, and followed.

The Lady didn't have any other name than that; she was old, Chinese, and small. Spike bowed over her hand in a fashion that made her smile. Xander refrained from such behaviors, knowing that he'd look stilted.

"Sit, sit. Did that stupid man anger you with his foolishness?"

Spike raised one eyebrow while Xander just shrugged. "Not really. I'm just getting tired of everyone taking one look at me and thinking I'm too young. I was never too young." Xander scowled at Spike. "Even Master Spike knows that."

Spike just sighed. "Luv, there will always be those who never see beyond outward appearances. Get used to it."

"No. Sooner or later, I'll be older. Then I'll get the respect I've earned." Xander missed Spike's sad grimace.

Lady took all this in with a blank expression. "So, we have no trouble here since you spoke to a few people. The only information I can offer you is that the present takeover attempt is by some youngling with no sense. Someone who has watched too many old movies. I will keep my ear out for a name."

Xander nodded, thanked her, and let Spike take care of niceties while he thought. He startled slightly when Spike touched him and said it was time to leave.

"Sorry, mind wandered. We going home now?" Xander dropped into step beside Spike.

"Unless there's somewhere else you want to go, yeah." Spike sauntered out the door and back into the street. They both noticed that every being on the street gave them plenty of room, even going so far as to step into the gutter to get out of their way. Spike smirked, Xander marveled.

They got back home near 4am, or about dusk their time.

Timmins met them at the door with, of all things, bathrobes.

"The bath is drawn, bubbles and all. Go get in before they're all gone. Master Xander, you first, I'd like a word with Master Spike." He turned to Spike. "If you don't mind that is."

"Don't mind, but what's all this about?" Xander took his robe and headed for the bath that was calling his name.

Timmins grinned at Spike. "Bud has taken Miss Tara to his tribe. He wanted to wait until you got back, but his mother insisted. He left a letter for both of you. Now... what are your intentions toward Young Master Xander ? Do you want him as Consort, or are you content for him to remain a companion forever?"

Spike gave Timmins a cool, assessing once over, eyebrow firmly raised. "Consort, of course, it's my ultimate goal. My ulterior motive, if you will."

"Then you better start convincing him he's your equal or you'll never succeed."

Spike blinked once, very slowly. "I believe you're right. So... how do I start?"

Timmins shrugged; he was not about to suggest anything. "You'll know, if you just think about it for a while." He smiled. "Good luck, Master. He's well worth whatever you have to do. Now, shoo, before the water cools off and the bubbles disappear."

Spike went, dropping clothing as he did so, the robe over his arm.

Xander was settled in the tub, covered in bubbles and sulks. Spike slid into the tub so that they were 'head-to-tail'.

"You Ok, pet?"

Xander sighed heavily and leaned his head on the edge of the tub, looking blindly at the ceiling.

"Kinda not. I'm tired of all this, 'you're so young' shit. I'm not young, never really have been. With my dad and a hellmouth..." He shrugged, making the water slop out onto the floor. "Just... I... I want to make you proud, but I'm afraid I never will." He slid down in the tub until the water touched his chin.

Spike realized that it was now or never. He knew what to do, the thing that no one had ever done for him. "Damn. Mouthy as I am, I'm really bad at this sort of thing so don't interrupt me, Ok?" Xander scooted up a bit and nodded. "I'm proud of you. Really very proud. You managed to maintain your dignity even as your bloody friends tore it down at every opportunity. You took being turned into a thrall in stride, even when you were scared to death. Don't deny it, pet, the nose knows. You accepted the harshest training without complaint and came back for more. You're an accepted warrior in a tribe that's well known for killing off the weak. I'm so proud of you, I could bust something. I could go on and on, but I think you get the drift." Spike had to smile at Xander's pole-axed expression. "Now, finish washing up and let's get to the good stuff."

Xander smirked a bit while Spike rushed him through the rest of his bath. They managed to get water everywhere. Timmins was going to have some mopping up to do. Spike was pretty sure he wouldn't mind.

Xander flopped onto the bed with a sigh. "Ok, fun time. Nice."

Spike sat on the edge of the bed. He needed to decide if he really wanted to do this; he decided that he did, more than anything,

"Yeah, pet, fun time."

Xander frowned up at him. "I thought you weren't going to call me that anymore. Give everyone the wrong impression."

"Fuck 'em. If they say something out of like, rip out their tongue. That'll make things clear. Scooch over."

Xander snickered at Spike's use of such slang. "Where'd you hear that word?"

"Um... not sure, 1950's southwest somewhere. Dru said it was dashing."

Xander rolled his head on the pillow. "Oh, Dru. Is she still around?"

Spike shook his head, "Don't know, don't care. She's not on my radar anymore. Got the slick?"

Xander gave up. Spike had avoided any conversation about Dru, Angel, or Buffy since he couldn't remember when. He, Xander, didn't really mind.

"Slick." Xander handed Spike the tube with a flourish.

Spike took it and settled beside Xander. He reached over and palmed the hardness he knew was there, making Xander moan softly. "Nice, pet. Love how responsive you are. Horny?"

Xander gave a little whimper before replying, "I'm always horny around you. All you have to do is look at me the right way. Purr for me. Even just curl your tongue in a certain way." Spike ran his thumb over Xander's glans and watched as a pearl of pre-come beaded up. "Oh, yeah, like that."

Spike smiled to himself; his boy was nothing if not predictable.

"Like that, do you?" Xander just whined a bit as Spike stopped moving his hand. "Patience, luv, don't want you going off too soon, now do we?"

"Yes, we do. You know what my recovery time is, right?" Xander rolled toward Spike, reaching for his hand. "More, move. Now."

Spike laughed and complied. Xander moaned and spurted all over his chest and stomach. Spike didn't give him time to recover; he bent over him and began to lick, cleaning every bit of the spend off Xander, who squirmed a bit, but sighed and clutched the sheets to keep from bolting off the bed.

"Oh, man. That was so good. But... you... you didn't..."

"Get my end away? Not ready, yet." He leaned back against the pillows. "You ever top?"

Xander laughed gently. "No, since I never thought I was gay. Why?"

Spike took a deep breath and said gently. "Want you to fuck me. Really." Xander turned a started expression into a frown.

"You sure? Won't it... um... not what I would have thought a High Master would want."

"That's just it, pet. 'S not. But I don't care. If they find out, it doesn't make any difference. You're going to be my Consort. That means we're equals. We take turns. See?"

Xander thought about that for a moment. "I think so. But... I don't know what I'm doing. What if I hurt you?"

Spike snorted. "Vampire here. Like a little pain, sometimes."

Xander rolled to face Spike. "I know. But... it's different. I don't want to hurt you by accident. If you want to be hurt, that's something else. I don't want it to be because I'm clumsy. Understand?"

Spike laughed softly. "Only you. Yeah, I understand. I'll help you. Don't worry. Come on now."

Xander rolled on top of Spike, kissing his nose. "Can't come now. Just did. So, what do I do first?"

Spike showed Xander what to do with the lube; they repositioned themselves and Xander eased one finger into him. "Like that? This Ok?"

Spike moved restlessly. "Yeah, but go faster."

"If it hurts, tell me. I know you haven't... um."

"Caught, pet, just think baseball." Spike groaned as Xander slipped another finger in him and pushed. "Oh, yeah. Another."

Xander didn't question, he just added another finger and slid it in and out. Spike's opening fluttered and relaxed. Xander hoped he was doing it right, Spike seemed to think so. He relaxed and started to enjoy what he was doing, too.

Spike finally whimpered, reached between them to touch Xander. "Mount me. Now."

He rolled onto his back and pulled his legs up to his chest, opening himself for Xander. Xander stopped a moment to look, gazing on the white body below him. "So beautiful." Spike snorted. "You are. All white and strong, skin like silk, and... enough poetry. Kiss?"

Spike laughed as Xander did a push up then dropped down to kiss him. After a very satisfying kiss, Xander gripped himself and using one hand to hold himself up and the other to guide himself, he put the tip of his erection against Spike and pushed. He slid in a bit, the heavy head popping through Spike's guardian muscle with ease. Spike moaned again as Xander pushed harder and slid in more.

"Yeah, that's it. Good, so good." Spike's whisper set Xander off completely and he started to rock in and out stabbing for Spike's sweet spot.

He knew when he'd found it as Spike gave a hiss of pleasure. Xander aimed as best he could and hit that spot with every stroke. Spike's moans turned to groans and Xander heard the sheet rip. He continued to drive into the slick hotness that was Spike until he felt himself lose what thread of control he'd managed to maintain. He came, jerking and trembling. Spike's roar of completion left nothing to Xander's imagination. Xander dropped onto Spike, panting then rolled off him to settle at his side.

When he got his breath back he asked, "Good?"

"Mind blowin' abso-fuckin'-lutely." Spike settled more comfortably. "Sleep now."

Xander got up instead and fetched two washcloths and several towels. "Here, wash off or we'll be all sticky. And here's a towel so we don't have to sleep on a wet spot."

They washed and tossed the still wet cloths and towels on the floor. Xander spread the last towel on the wet spot and they fell asleep in each other's arms.

.

Timmins woke them the next morning.

"Master Xander, please wake up. There's a phone call for you from England."

Xander grumbled and stuck his hand out for the phone. "Gimmie. Coffee?"

"At once, sir."

Timmins retreated to his kitchen wondering if letting him take that call was a good idea. He wasn't sure how either Master Spike or Master Xander felt about 'that red-headed witch'. He sighed and started making coffee.

Xander put the phone to his ear, reached over to poke Spike, but found that he was awake. Spike took his hand and just held it.

"Xander! Xander, it's Willow. I know you're probably still pissed at me, but just listen. There's a new Master of California in Las Vegas and he has a really, really kick ass Dextera. Stay away from them. I've... well, I did a tarot reading for you, and I'm not really sure what it means. You're going to undergo a great change. And..."

Xander whistled shrilly to get Willow to shut up. His polite, "Willow. Easy, Willow," had been completely ignored.

Willow shut up, her ears ringing.

"I told you no more mojo."

Willow said softly, "I didn't think tarot would count."

"Did you put any magic into the reading?" Xander made his voice stern which made Spike shiver.

"Yes." Tiny, little voice.

"Then it counts. However, to set you mind at ease. Spike's the new High Master of the territory which includes all of Nevada. I'm his Dextera. Thanks for the compliment by the way. I didn't know I was kick-ass. Now. No more mojo. Love ya, Wills. Bye." And he hung up.

Spike looked startled, which was interesting as he also had a major case of bed-head.

Xander tried to smooth the locks down. "You look like a demented dandelion. Yeah, I hung up on her. I love her like a sister, but I told her no mojo and she just called in a panic about a tarot reading she did. Not talkin' to her, just for that." Timmins stuck a cup of coffee under his nose. "Mmmmm. Thanks. If she calls again, ask her what she wants. If she's worked any mojo for me, don't put her through."

Timmins just grunted his agreement; he couldn't understand why the silly girl wouldn't bow to Xander's stated desire for no magic to be worked on or for him. It seemed that his hopes for a reconciliation would be put off again. He sighed and went to fix breakfast.

Breakfast was an orgy of silliness with Spike insisting on feeding Xander. Xander tried to bite his fingers and was told, "No biting, you know it'll only turn me on and we'll never get anything done." Xander had burst into laughter and they'd finished at a leisurely pace.

After breakfast, Xander stilled his nerves and gently tugged Spike into his office. Spike's office was just across the hall, but Xander felt more comfortable in this one.

"Spike, enough with the dancing around. Ok? What do you really want with me? You're always on about your ulterior motives, but now I really need to know what they are. I'm in love with you and I want to stay with you. Last night gave me the idea that you're intending to have me as more than a thrall and Dextera. So, give with the info."

Spike sighed and rubbed his face. "Ok, it's really simple. Angel left, Dru left, came back, left again, several times. Buffy... she's not what I need. I'm lonely. I want a real companion, someone who's worthy to stand at my side for... a really long time. It's you... unless you run."

Xander blinked for a moment. "Oh, Ok. I was wondering what you were up to. That's nice and more or less what I've been thinking for the last while. I'll stay. I was going to beg to stay if you tried to turn me out. But last night..." Xander got a dreamy expression on his face. "That was something special. Very, very special. I want to stay, please. But... how could I go? The spell?"

Spike shook his head. "Spell's faded, or I miss my guess. If not completely gone, it's well on its way. And good riddance. I want you to stay because you want to. I'll get that..." Spike reached for Xander's collar.

Xander put his hand on Spike's. "Leave it. I like it. Something I can see and feel that helps me remember that you want me. Not some pretty picture of what you think I ought to be like. Just plain old Xander, with the silly grin and the over protective vibe. Me."

Spike nearly fell into his arms. "Not just silly Xander. Brave, strong, on my side. Smart, beautiful man. I always thought there was more to you than any of them saw. I was sure it wouldn't take much to find it. Then Red dumped you into my arms like a load of laundry. Ulterior motives, I've got plenty."

Xander hugged Spike. "Good, 'cause I've got some of my own. We need to sit and discuss this like intelligent men. I need to know exactly what you're up to so I can either help or get out of the way."

They spent a while frankly necking and Xander nearly got himself taken right on his desk. He managed to put Spike off by simply saying, "No, not now. We have to get this sorted. We'll have plenty of time later. Right?"

So Spike explained that he wanted to make Xander his Consort as well as his right hand. Xander agreed to this, but reminded Spike that he was going to die sooner or later.

"Well, pet, as to that. You're getting enough of my blood that you'll live a good long time, probably twice as long as your natural life span. But I was... there's a way to turn you without you losing your soul. Tara found it in one of Giles' books. Giles was really surprised to find it. We were looking for an orb, but they're really hard to find. So, when do you want to do this?"

Xander thought carefully for a few moments while Spike squirmed in his chair. "You're sure about the soul?" Spike nodded. "In about ten years then."

Spike's jaw dropped. "Wa'? Ten years! Why not as soon as we find an orb? What are you up to?" Xander was pleased to see that Spike was neither accusatory nor particularly angry, more disappointed and curious.

"In ten years I'll be thirty. I'll look about that age, too. Right now, I look 18, maybe. I'm 20. You look about the same. Neither one of us gets the respect we deserve, unless someone recognizes you. So, I figure we wait until I look a bit tougher."

"You are tough. Really tough." Spike was indignant on Xander's behalf.

"I know that. You know that. But didn't you hear that bunch last night? Ridiculous. I'm sick of it already. I'll be killing people over a glance in a hundred years. I don't know how you put up with it."

"Usually kill the blighter. But... it's your turning. I'll wait. Maybe." Spike smiled. It lit up his face like a thousand candles.

"You'll wait because you know I'm right. When do you want to tell Giles, Timmins, and the others?"

"We'll have a commitment party where I formally declare you my Claimed and Companion and tell them then."

Xander threw back his head and laughed, a full-bellied, joy-filled sound that echoed down the hall. "You're really making a display of this." Timmins started planning.

"Yes, I am. Want everyone to know what's up. Can't weasel out on me that way."

Xander pulled Spike into a hug. "Not weaseling, not a chance. But, any excuse to party. Right? Who all are we inviting?"

Spike grinned. "Leave it up to Timmins; he'll know who should be there and all that."

.

Timmins kept the invitees to close friends and family. This meant that he invited Giles, Tara, and Bud, who happily accepted. Buffy and Riley got invites, but declined. Angel was invited as Sire as well as Cordelia and the rest of the LA crew, but there was some sort of crisis there and they sent regrets. Tom Dalton, all Xander's trainers, and the Masters of the Territories received invitations, too. All the High Masters declined, as expected, but sent presents. Between one thing and another, there were invited 20 attendees and the whole court. Timmins was ecstatic, planning a banquet for nearly 200 humans, vampires, and demons.

It seemed a bit anticlimactic after their progression, but they all enjoyed it anyway.

Timmins had a buffet set up so that everyone, demon, human, or vampire, had something good to eat. Many of the vampires had followed their master and would eat human foods. A lot of the demons did, too. Anything that wasn't safe for some of the guests to eat was color-coded. Timmins was very organized that way.

Spike settled at their table and eyed his plate happily. There were the usual cheese puffs, salmon mousse on a cracker, anchovy toast, and so on being served. There were also some very unusual things like sheep's eyeballs in aspic; he'd given that one a pass. Xander had muttered under his breath, "No, hell no, no way in hell, no," and shuddered slightly. Spike had had to agree with him.

After they all stuffed themselves shamelessly, Spike called for the dancers to come in.

There were six of them, all human, all flexible in the way of belly dancers everywhere. Spike leaned back, put his arm around Xander and enjoyed. Xander watched with interest, their muscular control was impressive. He wondered if he could imitate any of their moves, then decided that he didn't need to. Spike loved him just the way he was. He fiddled with his collar idly; Spike noticed and smirked to himself.

The next entertainment was a juggler. This demon wasn't anywhere near human in appearance. He had six tentacles and juggled all sorts of things in time to music. He walked around the edge of the dance floor, juggling balls, knives, spoons, goblets, and a few things Xander didn't recognize. He finally bowed and disappeared behind a curtain only to return a moment later with two dozen torches which he juggled in patterns that left retinal images of stars, hearts, pentagrams and squiggles. He collected his torches, bowed and left again.

Music started up and the tables were moved back against the walls, about half of them disappearing in the process. A small orchestra appeared on a dais in front of the curtained door and began to play. Xander never had understood why the court dances always started out with music from the 80's, the 1880's. But it quickly moved from minuet through ballroom and on to more modern stuff.

Those who didn't dance gathered amongst the tables and visited. Even though they'd just eaten about 45 minutes before, drinks and hors d'oeuvres were circulated. Xander liked the tiny blini with caviar and the shrimp pâté on toast. Spike just enjoyed the sight of his lover enjoying food and conversation. Minions and fledges bowed and scraped to them. Masters and High Masters from Spike's Territory, and Spike's underlings, bowed politely and asked after their health, the events of the Procession, and in general made nice.

After two hours of this Spike was ready to make the announcement. The music suited everyone so it took a few moments to clear the dance floor.

"Alright, you lot, shut it. I'm about to make the announcement." The hall quieted. "Thanks. Now... I'm here to announce that I have taken a formal Claimed Companion. My Dextera, Xander Harris, is now also my Companion. He will become my Consort in due time. You will respect him as you respect me. Xander."

Xander approached Spike. He knelt and offered Spike his sword, saying clearly, "I, Alexander Harris, do offer you my sword, my heart, my soul, and my body, to do with as you please."

Spike just touched the grip, realizing the significance of Xander offering his tachi instead of the gladius. "I, William James Pitt, also known as William the Bloody, do accept your sword to my defense, your heart to treasure, your soul to love, and your body to shelter. Rise and be recognized."

Xander stood and Spike touched his shoulder to turn him to face their audience. The cheering went on for several seconds. When it quieted Spike turned to Xander. "You're no longer a thrall so that collar is an insult. I know you treasure it, so we'll put it aside instead of destroying it. Timmins."

Timmins stepped forward with one hand out stretched for Xander's coat. Xander pulled it off and handed it over. No one remarked on the fact that he was wearing a standard shoulder harness with a Beretta and three magazines standard mounted.

Spike loosened Xander's tie and unbuttoned his shirt enough to get to the collar. Xander stood still, chin tilted up while Spike bent the collar enough to ease it off.

Xander examined the circle of metal that he'd been wearing for almost 2 years now. It had been chosen with care, blessed, cursed and imbued with every protection that Spike could think of. He felt a bit naked without it.

To replace it, Spike produced a thick, heavy chain of platinum and gold. Xander knew that it was even more powerful than the torc. He lifted his chin even more to allow Spike to fasten it around his neck. Then Spike held out his hand again. Timmins handed him a thick bracelet deeply engraved with runes and symbols even older, all intended to protect Xander from everything from an apocalypse to the common cold. It snapped shut around Xander's right wrist with a soft click. Timmins nodded his satisfaction and everyone in the room cheered.

When they quieted, Spike just told them to go back to their drinking, which they did.

Spike and Xander slipped away to celebrate their joining in private.


	40. Epilogue

Everyone in the room watched the two men as they ambled through. The older one looked to be a distinguished 30-something. His broad shoulders and narrow waist showed that he took good care of himself. His powerful chest stretched his silk shirt just enough. A few of the observers had the good sense to wonder why he was wearing a jacket in Las Vegas in July; the rest just stared. He moved with a grace that belied his bulk, his motions quick and smooth, like a martial artist.

The younger, shorter man was just as impressive in his own way. Where the larger man was leonine, the younger was more like a leopard. He moved with a cat-like grace that was mesmerizing. His stark white hair and slender figure were a great contrast to his companion's dark bulk.

They were obviously on the prowl, but for what? No one could tell. They stopped from time to time to talk to people, smiling and chatting animatedly. They smiled at each other with obvious love and affection. In this year of 2030, people were finally getting used to same sex couples, especially here in Las Vegas which was a mecca for them. Nevada had legalized same sex marriages in 2015.

.

Spike looked over his shoulder at Xander and smiled, "We're going to have to check with Madam Angelica later. She's all in a dither about something."

Xander shrugged slightly, his massive shoulders moving gently under his jacket. "Why? We hired her to plan this circus; she should plan."

Spike had learned a great deal of patience in the last 22 years, so he just poked Xander and announced, "Yeah, but she needs some idea of what we want. She's never done a Turning before, you know."

Xander laughed, bright and hearty. "You're right. So... I don't care one way or the other. You decide what you want. Might talk to Tara about what she needs so she can stick my soul on."

"Don't need to, gave her carte blanche to get whatever she needs. I'm going to text Madam Angelica right now and ask her to send us a list of all the questions she needs answered. We should have done this at the start, but... we got side tracked by that, what was it?"

"A Woofler demon. Sounds a lot more benign than he turned out to be. From the name, you'd expect it to be something on the line of a big dog." Xander watched as Spike typed out his text, admiring, not for the first time, Spike's elegant hands and long slender fingers.

Spike finished his text and snorted, "Looked more like a Wookie with quills to me. Nasty thing. And it smelled like..."

Xander laughed softly. "It smelled like it'd been dead for a month. Gross."

Spike nodded his agreement, looking around the room with sharp eyes. Xander also examined the room, his gaze automatically going the other way around. Neither one of them saw anything out of order, so by silent agreement, they headed for the exit.

As they walked they discussed where they should go next. Xander was all for going to Under Wynn while Spike wanted to go to the newer Under Capri. Xander finally got his way by pouting; even after all the years together, he could still get his way with 'the lip'. Spike gave way with good grace though, as he really didn't care where they went, as long as they hit all the places on their schedule.

"You want to go up to the surface?" Xander glanced at his watch. "It's after dark."

"No, take too much time. We'll just stroll the boulevard." Spike nodded to the doorman and glanced back at Xander. "It's really beginning to take shape, isn't it?"

Xander glanced over Spike's shoulder; he was about to walk into a man. "Spike? Watch out."

Spike turned and exclaimed, "Well, excuse me."

The man just looked at him for a moment then tried to shove him out of the way. Spike refused to be shoved. Xander loomed behind him, hand in his pocket. The doorman eased away to get out of the line of fire.

Spike just looked at the man with a mild expression on his face. "I said, excuse me. That means 'get out of my bloody way, pillock.'" Spike never raised his voice, but the man stepped out of the way with a shiver. He wasn't sure who this was, but he was very glad that the blond man seemed in a good mood.

"Sorry, sorry. Didn't know who you are." Xander just loomed a bit more with a slightly raised eyebrow and a Mona Lisa-like smile. "Is your boy always that ..."

Xander laughed softly. "I'm his boy. Move." The man moved, never realizing that he was lucky to keep his tongue.

As they moved into the boulevard, Spike looked over his shoulder at Xander. At 40, he was barely showing his age, a bit of silver at his temples made him dignified, a lot of muscle and a cold, inflexible expression made him frightening. His aura of competence and confidence was becoming. He was all business, until he smiled. That smile lit up his face like a welcoming sun. Everyone in the Court vied for one of those smiles.

"Problem, luv?"

Xander smiled, beaming at Spike without a care. "Nope, just move along, nothing to see here."

"Star Wars quotes? You are in a good mood." Spike turned to amble along the sidewalk, cocky strut carrying him along more quickly than it appeared. Xander admired his ass, mourning that duster again. The faithful coat was finally retired when a side seam had given away and Spike had refused to have another made. He's simply said that he'd outgrown it.

Xander missed that coat.

As they walked they were greeted by all sorts, from demons and vampires, werewolves and humans, to things indescribable by those labels. Xander nodded to some, scowled at others; Spike nodded to those that Xander nodded to and ignored the rest.

Xander looked around himself in pleasure; they'd worked hard to make Under Las Vegas a safe place. And it was safe now. After several years of ball busting on his part and a few very unpleasant public executions on Spike's, they'd finally 'tamed the beast'.

Oh, there were a few every year that tried to invade their territory or move in on another clan's area, but he and Spike either handled it themselves or sent Bud and Tara. Xander grinned at nothing much, making a whore nearly faint when she saw. Bud and Tara's wedding had been a thing of beauty, and terror.

Bud's entire tribe had shown up for it, including his mother. Bud's tribe, it turned out, was matriarchal. Accordingly, Tara was the head of their family, not Bud, although neither one of them seemed to care much.

But Bud's mother did care, and the ceremony had been astonishing, to say the least. Tara had to buy Bud from his mother. She gave 20 horses, ten cows, and dozens of geese, chickens, and turkeys. All symbolic. Xander had carved until his fingers bled, so had every other wood carver they could find. All the carvings had to be done in 30 days, blessed by Tara in a special ceremony and approved by Spike, as Tara's liege lord.

Xander smiled in remembrance; the ceremony had been something else. Bud had been brought in by his father, tied with a silken rope and laden with his dowry. Spike had managed not to laugh like a loon, until later. Bud's dowry had consisted of yards of gold chain all of it draped around him in softly jingling loops. Tara had taken the rope from her, now, mother-in-law and waved a hand. The rope had transformed into a drift of sweet smelling smoke and wafted away. The dancing, feasting, drinking, and fighting had lasted for four days. That had been nearly twenty years ago now.

A movement attracted Xander's eye. It was Giles, coming out of his favorite restaurant. Xander sent the now rather elderly man a nod. Giles had stayed with Spike's court as an advisor, confidant, negotiator, and friend since he'd come aboard to tutor Xander. He and Tom were room mates and still offered Xander help as needed for his dyslexia; problems were few and far between now. Xander bumped shoulders with him companionably as Giles fell in step.

"Where are you going?" Despite his age, Giles' steps were firm and vigorous.

"Up to Longhaven's, just checking things out. See and be seen. Want to come?"

Giles shook his head, every evidence of regret on his face. "I promised Madam Angelica that I'd help her; Timmins is proving to be a bit difficult. She offends him with her attitude and he retaliates by... cold shoulder doesn't begin to describe it. I do believe that Master Timmins is offended that you hired that woman in."

Spike, overhearing the conversation, announced, "Well, how's he going to have time to do all the planning and take care of us, too? Doesn't make sense. I don't want him exhausted before the ceremony; he's got an important part to play in it. And so do you, git, so don't go wearing yourself out, either."

Giles smiled at 'his boys' and shook his head. "Rest assured that I shall be well rested before the ceremony. But that is one of the reasons I promised to help her. That harridan is... not as organized as I'd wish. She doesn't seem to be able to handle some of the demands put on her by the variety of guests invited. She's actually more trouble than she's worth. Timmins could do it himself, if he wasn't lumbered up with keeping the Residence in order."

Xander bit his lip for a moment then took his phone out of his pocket and quick-dialed. "Timmins? Yeah, tell Madam that she's fired and make it stick. Then, you take over the arrangements for my Turning. Get Tom to run the Residence, he needs something to do besides teach those classes."

Tom Dalton had been teaching classes in the stables for years since Sunnydale had fallen into that sinkhole and he had chosen to spend more time with Giles. However, the quality of the occupants had changed over time and most of the stable were now at least high school graduates. He was beginning to feel a bit on the useless side; now he just helped out around the Residence. It was getting big enough that Timmins really needed a hand. Spike was also trying to convince him to return as a Secondus.

Xander snapped his phone shut in a 'that takes care of that' way that made Giles smile. Xander had definitely matured from the goofy, clumsy boy he'd been at 18.

Giles started to reconsider Xander's invitation, but realized that if Timmins actually managed to get rid of Madam, he was going to need help. He regretfully told Spike that he was going back to the Residence to help Timmins. Xander patted him on the back, smiled again, and said, "That's Ok. We probably won't need you tonight; there's not a lot of anything we're doing except 'strut and gawk', you know, see and be seen? Only ruder. Not much negotiating in our near future."

Giles started to say something, but Xander poked Spike who just flapped a hand and said, "If we need you, we'll call you. Make an early night of it, go home, get some rest, and back Timmins up if needed. Shoo!"

So Giles let himself be persuaded and headed back home.

Spike and Xander ambled on, looking in windows and leering at whores, male and female. Spike glanced around, taking a bit more in. "We need to reduce the number of whores around; there's too many and they're too obvious. Lots of people still don't want them around the kiddies."

Xander took his own count. "I think you're right. I'll have a little talk with a few people."

"And, by people, I'm sure you include demons." Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth for a moment, making Xander smirk.

"I do. I find the appellation 'sentient being' PC and ridiculous. If it's intelligent and has feelings, it's people. So don't start." It was a long standing argument between them and Xander was getting tired of it.

Spike gave Xander one sharp glance and decided that his chain rattling was beginning to go too far and dropped the subject, forever.

"Ok, whatever you say, luv. Are we going to see any one of consequence at the Wynn?"

Xander, realizing exactly what Spike was up to, replied, "Not that I'm aware of. I'm hoping to catch the General Manager out of his office for a bit of a chat. I just want to touch bases with him to check if he's satisfied with the quality of our service."

Spike nodded, dodged a drunk without thinking about it and announced, "I swear, if he's not happy, I'm going to eat him. He's the one that complains constantly about the security, right?"

Xander shook his head. "No, that was the last guy. This guy was hired, transferred in, something, about two months ago. You've never met him. That's the other reason I wanted you to come with. You need to meet this one. He's actually not really bad, as twitchy accountant types go."

Spike didn't bother to try to hide his relief. "Oh, that's good then. After we're done there, we going home?"

Xander glowered at a thug who was eyeing them from the nearby alleyway. "Spike, we need to have some enforcers do another sweep, I didn't like the way that guy in the alley was acting."

Spike glanced at the alley and saw the man, or was he a demon? Sometimes there was no way to tell. "Let Bud know. You might want to go along with the team this time."

"Can't. I'll be out of it for at least two days you said. The sweep needs to be done tonight or tomorrow. I won't have time. I'll go the next time."

"Ok. That'll have to do, won't it?" Spike couldn't help his grin; he was as excited as he'd ever been. Xander was going to be totally his, forever. He couldn't wait.

"You're going to have to wait until the proper time. Tara has to make all her preparations and Giles needs to get rid of Madam before she drives Timmins to eat her. I really hope he doesn't."

Spike frowned. "Xander, you know Timmins won't eat her; he's been visiting the stables for a long time now. Besides, I'm sure he knows she'd only make him sick."

Xander laughed heartily at that. All the upper echelon Masters in Spike's court visited the stables now. Spike had finally gotten tired of dealing with local law enforcement asking him to help find the serial killer. He'd dusted a couple of the more stubborn ones and set up suck houses in which the lower minions, fledges and childer mostly, could get blood and actually make money at it. It kept them from making sloppy kills, leaving corpses lying around, and generally scaring the tourists.

They arrived at the Wynn without fanfare, but were recognized at once and shown to a private room for a consultation with the new manager.

While they waited, they were served an assortment of snacks and a drink, very high roller treatment. Spike poked at a lump of something then turned up his nose. "Stinky cheese! Not good. He does know I'm a vampire, right?"

Xander, who didn't like limburger, either, just shrugged. "I think he does. He knows you're the Master of California, so he should." He sniffed then plucked a different treat off the tray at his elbow. "Here, try this. It doesn't stink. I think it's potted shrimp."

Spike accepted the treat, ate it, and nodded his approval. "Not bad. Wonder what that wanker is up to? We're waiting too long." Spike fidgeted, glancing around the room quickly. "I don't like this."

Xander, who had a good idea what as up, just patted him on his frantically jiggling leg and said, soothingly, "Take it easy. I think he just heard about our little 'party' and is trying to get the catering. Like he will." Xander's snort showed his opinion of that idea. "Timmins would have our guts for garters, if we even thought of picking so much as a pillow. Ease off."

Spike accepted that explanation and settled back to nibble and sip, waiting for their host to show up. Xander relaxed, too, and smiled genially at the server when he came in with a cup of cappuccino with whipped cream on top. He thanked the man and sipped in silence until the General Manager himself showed up. He greeted Xander by name and glanced at Spike, dismissing him as too young. He remarked in that horrible jovial tone that people like him assumed, "And where's Master Spike?" He nudged Xander with an elbow in a familiar way that made Spike grit his teeth. "You sly dog, you, you said he'd be here."

Xander just nodded in Spike's direction. "Master Spike, may I introduce Mister Frederic Longhaven, General Manager?"

"Yeah, guess so." Spike eyed the man's hand for a moment then settled back in his seat. He never shook hands with humans until he knew them. Xander had given up trying long ago. The Master of California could be a very stubborn vampire when he wanted.

Mr. Longhaven quickly realized that Spike wasn't going to shake his hand, but he didn't get offended; he was used to having customers refuse his hand. At least Master Spike hadn't sneered at him, so he just got on with it.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but there was a bit of difficulty in the third floor casino. It's all taken care of and now we can sit down and have a nice visit." He settled in a chair, carefully pinching up the crease in his trousers and shooting his cuffs. He thought it made him look elegant; it really made him look fussy. Xander had learned from Timmins that the truly elegant man, like Beau Brummel, left his rooms perfect and assumed that he was perfect all day.

"I hope it wasn't something that requires our intervention?" Xander made as if to stand up, but Mr. Longhaven flapped one hand at him, patting him back into his chair.

"No, no. Some high roller got offended because he thought he should have the Imperial Suite, but he never spends that much money. He's comped into one of the Executive Suites and happy to have it. Especially after we told him that his behavior could get him blackballed all over Vegas. No one has the right to smack my hostesses, no matter how much money they spend. He is now aware of that, due to one of your people. She's a very nice lady, most of the time, until it's time not to be nice; then she's very convincing."

Spike sipped his drink then remarked in a voice so bland that even Xander might have been fooled. "I'm glad you approve of our services. However, we do not provide our people to deal with unhappy high rollers. They're only provided to deal with demon related problems. Get me?"

Mr. Longhaven nodded. "Oh, yes, of course I do. But, I think, in this case, it was permissible as the high roller in question was a V'noth. Very unpleasant being. Didn't want to listen to me because I'm human." Spike nodded more genial now. "How are the snacks?"

Xander swallowed a shrimp toast and said, "Very nice. Very good quality. Big enough to taste, but not so big as to be more than a mouthful."

Mr. Longhaven smirked a bit. "Thank you. I understand that you're having an event. I was hoping to get the catering contract for it. If you feel we're worthy, of course." His smooth face betrayed his eagerness by just the slightest degree.

"I see. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but it's a Turning you see. I wouldn't want the Turnee to eat a server. Maybe some other time." Spike's expression of slight sorrow was put on at best. Xander wasn't fooled for a second, but Mr Longhaven seemed to take it a face value.

"A Turning? I'm not sure I understand." As a General Manager, Mr Longhaven was fairly cognizant of a number of odd ceremonies, but he'd never heard of this one.

"I'm turning Xander." At the human's lost expression he explained, "Into a vampire. He's going to become my formal Consort, not that he hasn't been all these years, but it's time to make it formal and permanent. He's going to start his unlife as a Master vampire and my Consort. So we're not having many humans around. Only those he already knows and is friends with. People that have been with us for years. See?"

"I think I do. Well, congratulations?" His questioning tone insulted Spike a bit, but Xander just put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you. I know you don't understand, but I'm very happy. We'll be together until one of us is dust and the other greets the sun. It's nice." Xander's glowing happiness made Mr Longhaven smile. Spike fairly beamed himself.

"I see. It would put a bit of a wet blanket on the proceedings if the celebrant ate a server. Bad form and all that. Right?"

Spike nodded with a smirk. "Only too true. If you're satisfied with the security arrangements and that's all, we'll be taking our leave. The snacks were very nice and we'll keep you in mind for future events." Spike finished the last of his drink and stood up. Xander stood as well and moved to stand at his shoulder. "Stop looming, luv." Xander just chuckled.

They nodded, exchanged leaving pleasantries, and removed themselves from the room before Mr. Longhaven could hold them up anymore.

The ride up in the elevator had been escorted, but the ride down was spent in what Spike referred to as snogging. Xander liked snogging very much.

.

Timmins had taken great pleasure in sending the arrogant and foolish Madam Angelica on her way. He'd called in Giles and Tom and sat down with them to make plans. They'd had their heads together for the last hour. It hadn't taken them long to divide up the responsibilities; Giles was contact, Timmins general manager, and Tom was responsible for the crews. They had delegated all arrangements for the actual ceremony to Tara with Bud as her deputy and it was done.

Timmins issued general orders, Giles contacted the people to do the work and negotiated the deals, and Tom organized the work crews who did all the setting up, construction, and cleaning. Tara had already found all the items necessary to make sure that Xander kept his loving soul and knew the ritual by heart. Bud was delegated to making sure that all the items were where they were supposed to be and made their way into Tara's hands at the proper time.

Spike and Xander took one look at the room and agreed that it was perfect.

It wasn't as big as you'd expect, but it was plenty big enough for all the participants. Spike had been a bit disgruntled to realize that Bud and Tara had to be right in the room to perform the ritual. This made sense, but it also precluded some of the activities that Spike had planned; these went by the wayside at once. Spike was more concerned with keeping Xander's soul than he was with getting his 'end away' as he put it.

The total number of people that 'had' to be there wound up being seven. Spike and Xander, of course, Tara, Bud, Giles, Timmins, and Tom, as the anchors and celebrant for the ritual. That was all that Spike was allowing in the room, but the rest of the Court would be waiting in the throne room to greet Xander when he rose. No matter how long that took.

The room contained a huge bed in the middle of a pentagram, five candle stands with five candles in each one, one at each point of the pentagram, a small brazier and cushion near the foot of the bed and not much else. The bed was covered with the finest linen sheets and feather pillows abounded. The duvet was silk and filled with goose down. Everything was in shades of clay and chocolate brown, Xander's favorite colors. Timmins had included a few small accent pillows of turquoise and scarlet. Spike approved the arrangements after a glance at Tara. She nodded, smiling at this evidence of how much Xander was loved. The only other furniture in the room was chairs for each of the other participants. Spike would stay on the bed with Xander, holding him until he rose.

.

Xander paced, he was nervous and it showed. Spike was nervous, too, evidenced by him smoking around Xander. The ashtray full of butts was proof of how nervous he was.

Tara checked her preparations for the last time, told Bud to empty the ashtray, start the brazier, and light her stand of candles. Bud prepared to do as he was told.

Giles settled at his assigned point of the pentagram as did Timmins and Tom. Bud took the small brass lighter with its attached snuffer that Tara handed him. He held it steady as Tara lit it and blessed it, and lit her candles. He then went to each of the others and lit their lighter from his. He then went to his position and stood behind his candelabra, but inside the pentagram.

Tara turned to Spike and nodded, "We're ready." She looked down at the Orb of Thessla and smiled in satisfaction. They'd searched for one for some time, but finally had to give up. She'd learned all the spells and incantations and made one herself.

Spike turned to Xander. "Ready, luv?"

Xander looked into Spike's eyes and replied, "As I'll ever be."

"You sure?" Spike's anxious look made Xander rub Spike's cheek with one hand.

"You've been asking me that for the last ten years. Yes, I'm sure, so bite me already." Xander eased out of Spike's grip and lay down, turning his head to give Spike access to his neck.

"Alright." Spike shifted around until Xander was half on his chest, half on the bed with his head on Spike's shoulder. "Much better. More comfy?"

"Yes. Get on with it."

"Pushy git." Spike realized that they'd fooled around long enough; Tara's chant was reaching the point where he was supposed to start draining Xander. Spike licked Xander's neck; his saliva would ease any pain. He changed and bit carefully into Xander's neck. Xander didn't even whimper. It never hurt when Spike bit him. Like the dentist always said, "Just a little pinch."

Tara continued to chant. Spike gently bled Xander; he didn't want to draw too hard and make Xander light headed. He wanted to ease Xander to sleep so he wouldn't be afraid. Xander sighed and settled against Spike, squirming to get more comfortable. Bud lit all the candles on his candelabra.

Xander sighed again and Spike stopped drinking to ask, "Xander, you doing Ok?"

"Yeah, just feeling a bit cold."

Timmins lit his candelabra. Tara continued to chant, the Orb began to glow.

Spike returned to Xander's neck after covering him carefully with the duvet. He began to rub one hand over Xander's chest as he continued to drink. Xander's complexion paled.

Tom lit his candelabra. Tara's chant reached its first stopping point and she began the first set of ritual gestures, the Orb's glow became even brighter.

Xander slipped into unconsciousness and fell limp in Spike's arms. Tara began to chant again and Giles lit the last candelabra.

Tara threw herbs and spices into her brazier and settled back to watch the Orb which was so bright now that it was hard to look straight at. Tara looked at Spike and Xander, but kept the Orb in the corner of her eye.

Spike felt Xander's heart stutter, thud one last time and still. Xander's loyal, loving heart had stilled. Spike shuddered and stopped drinking. He arranged Xander more comfortably, easing his arm from around his shoulders and laying him back on the pillows. Tara added spices to the brazier and smiled, the Orb shattered into bits. The light from the shattered Orb shot from in front of Tara straight to Xander's chest and melded with him.

Spike didn't need Tara's, "Now!" to know that it was time. He held out his arm, Bud moved forward to cut him deeply enough that the blood flowed. Spike pressed his wrist to Xander's mouth and Giles came to lean over them, stroking Xander's throat to force him to swallow. This was the crucial time; Xander had to be forced to swallow enough blood to revive him. Xander swallowed convulsively, once. Then he swallowed again, and again.

Spike nearly cried, the relief was that great. Xander was going to Turn. And he was going to be one of the most powerful vampires ever. He would retain his wonderful, kind and loving soul. He was going to feed on nothing but Spike's blood for the month until he was 'weaned', until he was strong enough to hunt, but he never would. He would feed exclusively from Spike, Timmins, Tom, and Giles until he could be trusted to feed without killing.

Giles was the first to realize that Xander needed to be pulled off Spike before he drained him. "Spike! Xander has to stop. He'll go too far. He's killing you."

Spike laughed, "No, can't kill me. Won't dust me, either." Spike dug his fingers and thumb into Xander's jaw right at the joint. He opened his mouth and Spike pulled his wrist out. It took a moment and a bit of talking from Spike to get Xander to lie back down.

When he did, he relapsed into unconsciousness, still and now cold. Spike and Timmins arranged him as comfortably as they could, with Bud and Tom helping. Giles and Tara turned to snuff the candles and extinguish the brazier. They all then settled in their chairs to watch and wait.

.

Spike glanced at his watch. It had been three hours since Xander had 'passed'; it felt like much longer. He looked around. Tara was cuddled up to Bud, dozing after her labors in the ritual. Bud was rubbing her back and whispering in her ear. Timmins had taken up a place beside the bed after healing Spike's wrist with a couple of long licks. He hadn't moved since. Tom was sitting in his chair, but didn't look as if he'd relaxed an iota. Giles was also sitting in his chair, his eyes suspiciously red. He didn't seem to be able to quit polishing his glasses.

Xander twitched; Spike grabbed him. He shouldn't be Rising yet, but he was. Timmins hovered. If Xander Rose as they hoped, he'd be just like Human Xander; if he didn't, no one was sure what would happen.

They waited, and waited. Finally, Xander decided to make his feelings known.

"Ow! Spike! I'm hungry. You didn't say I'd be so hungry. It hurts!"

Spike nearly fell off the bed he was so surprised. He quickly gathered himself together. "Here, luv, feed." He offered his wrist to Xander.

Xander clutched at him for a moment then controlled himself with an iron will. "No. First, you have to tell me what to do. I don't want to hurt you."

Spike laughed with joy. That was his Xander all over. "Alright. Just let your fangs drop. Think about it for a second and it'll just happen. I'm surprised that you haven't vamped already."

Xander concentrated for a moment and his eyes changed from their usual chocolate brown to brilliant amber, his brow furrowed into ridges, and his fangs appeared. He was magnificent as a vampire. And so gentle as he delicately bit into Spike's wrist. Spike didn't even blink as Xander's fangs pierced his flesh.

"Good, very nice, luv. Easy, not so fast, you'll make yourself ill."

Xander stopped sucking so hard. He mumbled, "Sorry." around Spike's wrist.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Spike's admonishment was automatic.

Giles goggled for a moment then broke into slightly hysterical laughter. Tara joined him, more in relief that Xander was still Xander than anything else. Timmins and Tom both just smirked with pride. Their boys were going to be fine.

Xander fed from Spike and fell back to sleep again. Spike accepted the wrist Timmins offered and drank then sent Timmins off to the stable to feed himself. Tom settled back in his chair and picked up a book. He started to read in a soft, clear voice. This was one of the things that Xander loved, so they did it for him even though he was asleep.

Spike drowsed, watching his little family from slitted eyes. Tara was a delight: kind, gentle and sweet, but fierce when she needed to be. Bud was his war shield. Timmins and Tom were his factotums, always there, always ready to do whatever he needed. And Xander, his beautiful mate. His Consort, his eternal companion.

They all rested and listened to Tom read until Timmins came back from the stables then Spike drank from Tom and sent him to feed. Spike knew that Xander would wake again, as hungry as the last time.

Just as Spike was beginning to wonder, Xander woke again.

"I'm still starving. Spike? Did anyone think to tell the Court that I've Risen?" Xander glowered at Giles then Bud. Both had the good grace to look a bit shamefaced.

Giles stood up. "No, but I'll go tell them all now, shall I?"

Spike petted Xander. "Yeah, you better, I guess."

Giles left and they soon heard a riotous cheering from the courtrooms. Everyone, it seemed, was celebrating Xander's Rise as a vampire.

.

Xander fed from Spike again, but it was Giles who offered his wrist to Spike.

Spike gazed levelly at Giles for a moment. "You sure?"

"I am. I want to help you feed Xander. I want him to be as powerful as possible. I know I'm old, but I'm still strong."

Spike snorted. "You talk like you're ancient. You're only, what? Fifty- something?" Spike didn't wait for Giles to scoff that he was nearer to seventy; he just delicately bit into the ex-Watcher's wrist and drank, being careful not to take too much. "There. Sit down now, you'll likely be a bit light-headed for a moment. Timmins, bring him some juice or something."

Timmins just handed Giles a glass of orange juice and a couple of shortbread triangles from the tray he'd returned with."Here, your favorites."

Giles thanked Timmins and settled back to nibble and sip.

Xander smiled at them both from his nest in Spike's arms then looked up at Spike. "I'm tired of laying around. Can we go out yet?"

"Sure, luv, anything you want. Want to run? Feel strong enough?"

Xander scoffed gently at the thought that he might be weak. "Sure. Come on, let's go."

Xander eased off the bed, not wanting to stand up too quickly and have Spike demand that he return to the bed.

Xander stood grinning in what he thought of as his war face while Spike sorted himself out. He, Spike, was tangled in the duvet and sheets and swearing a blue streak as he untangled himself. Timmins left him to it, hiding his face so Spike wouldn't see him smiling.

"Oi! I don't need to see your face to know you're laughing at me. Yuk it up, you. Just for that I'll not let you run with us."

Timmins just snorted, knowing full well that Xander wanted both Tom and him to run with him. They'd discussed it behind Spike's back. They were all going, just in case something went wrong on the run. The First Hunt was something special in the old days, not so much now, but they wanted to have a real old-fashioned First Hunt for Xander. No one had had one in over two hundred years.

So, Spike led Xander out of the Residence by a back way followed by Timmins and Tom. Bud stayed behind with a grimace.

Giles, noticing the face, asked, "Aren't you going? I thought you and Xander were War-mates."

"We are, but there's no way I can keep up with five Master vampires. It's just not possible."

Giles looked at Bud blankly. "Five masters? Timmins is a master and so is Tom, Spike is a high master, who else is going?"

Bud shook his head. "Angel, as Spike's Sire. And Xander's a Master. He arose as one. He's never been buried, never had anything but Master's blood, and he still has his soul. Do you have any idea how powerful he's going to be?"

Giles' stunned expression told its own tale. "Yes, actually, I do. Rather frightening, isn't it?"

"No. It's Xander." Bud wasn't a bit worried about it. Xander was too good a person to give him any concern about his power.

.

Xander slipped out the back door of the Residence and into the wide alley, followed by a grinning Spike, Timmins, and Tom. Tom checked the end of the alley to see that it was clear; they didn't want fledges and such trying to follow them. This was Xander's Rising Run.

Spike grinned and hopped from foot to foot. Timmins nodded to him and they were off, running from the alley way into the crowded boulevards of Under Las Vegas. As they ran, they dodged beings, people of all kinds and sizes. They all just got out of the way as best they could. Everyone knew about Xander's Turning, but only a very few were invited even to court.

One of the invitees was Angel, who joined them on Xander's Run when they reached where they'd agreed he would wait. He gazed at Spike for a moment then ran closer when Spike nodded to him. Spike hadn't objected to his being included in the 'after party'. Buffy, Cordelia, and Willow were waiting back at the Residence with the rest of the court.

They ran through the under city for an hour, cutting back and forth across the streets and up to the surface, jumping from roof to roof in a display of insane, steely nerve and fierce strength.

Spike finally signaled that it was time to return home to greet the Court; it was getting late and he didn't want Xander to be too tired. He also wanted to feed him again.

It took only moments to return, via the front door this time, and make a grand entrance into the formal courtroom. Spike had resisted having such a thing for years, but Xander, Giles, and Timmins had finally worn him down.

It was a magnificent room, well appointed and brightly lit. Timmins had unashamedly plagiarized the layout of the Grand Throne Room of the Russian Winter Palace.

They were met in the anteroom by minions who helped all the Runners into clean clothing. All the Runners were dressed into similar clothing, button down shirts, vests, trousers, and heavy boots. Their coats were long-tailed dusters, similar to Spike's old faithful coat. Timmins and Tom were both dressed in the house colors of dark green with gold accents. Angel and Spike were both dressed in black and Xander in his trademark dark brown and bronze. Spike caught a look in the vampire-friendly mirrored wall and laughed.

"Here," He grabbed Angel by one arm and pulled him to Xander's side. He stepped in front of them then grinned in an absolutely terrifying way as Timmins flanked them on one side while Tom took the other. Angel smirked, looking a great deal more like Angelus while Tom just glanced at Timmins and nodded.

They made their entrance, striding down the aisle left for them and mounting the dais. Spike held up his hand for silence, smiled at Buffy, Willow, and Cordelia who were standing near the foot of the first step then announced, "He is here. He has Risen as a Master. I present my Consort, Alexander Harris. All hail!"

Xander vamped and glared at the court. Buffy shivered under the impact of his presence. Willow squeaked softly; she hadn't seen Xander since that disastrous spell more than twenty years ago. She'd kept up a correspondence with him, but since the British Magical Council refused to allow her to leave the compound, they hadn't seen each other. She'd only managed to get permission to come due to Spike's intervention. Cordelia, as Angel's personal assistant, had seen Xander on a regular basis and they'd settled their differences long ago.

All the occupants of the room cheered heartily and applauded. Xander stepped to the edge of the dais to accept their homage and looked out proudly.

"Thank you, thank you. I'm very happy to see everyone here. Refreshments are going to be circulated in a few moments. Enjoy." He turned to his friends. "We'll retire now. Spike? I'm tired already. Should I be?"

Spike turned to lead the way into the back of the dais, headed for the exit there. "Yeah, you're still settling into your new life. I'll feed you again then we can visit with everyone for a while."

His glance over his shoulder brought everyone to follow him into the back room. This room was a good size as it was used as a retiring room, dressing room, and private meeting room. There were several seating arrangements which were fluid and easily rearranged at need. Now there were several chairs and couches arranged around a large central table with side tables for all the chairs and at both ends of the couches. A hostess service was placed on the low central table; it consisted of a coffee pot, tea pot, sugar and creamer, as well as a large samovar for hot water. Timmins frowned; he'd specifically said that here was to be chocolate as well. He stepped over to a door, whispered for a moment then returned.

"I apologize, the servers are catering staff, not our people since they're all celebrating. They forgot the chocolate, as well as cups, saucers, and spoons. I don't know how they thought we'd drink without that. But never mind. Shall I be mother?"

Cordelia snorted at that Briticism, but settled in a chair. She was elegantly turned out, as usual, in Dior, Gucci, and Prada. Willow looked very nice in a pant suit from Harrods, but Buffy looked exquisite in a simple linen suit, obviously tailored to her, and to a practiced eye hiding a multitude of what Xander called 'sins'.

Timmins moved his chair nearer the various pots and Tom prepared to hand cups around; as soon as they arrived.

A sharp knock at the door brought chocolate, cups, and other forgotten paraphernalia. Timmins gave the server a sharp look, but relaxed when he realized that she was simply that, a server. He did, however, intend to have a few words with someone later. Not Tom, as he'd been there when the orders were issued.

After serving everyone, Tom settled with his cup and just waited.

It didn't take long. Buffy started it, of course, "Ok, Xander, how do you really feel?"

Xander grinned, vamped, and roared. He sounded like a cross between a male lion and a leopard. "Great! Really, really great."

Buffy just smiled and went back to her coffee, satisfied that 'her' Xander was still the same person he'd always been.

Willow just eeped and gulped at her tea, burning her mouth in the process. She was glad to be here, but well aware that her relationship with Xander had been permanently destroyed all those years ago, when she'd cast a spell she knew Xander didn't want. In her arrogance, she'd thought she knew better than anyone what was good. She now knew better, too late.

Cordelia gave Willow a knowing look then turned to Spike. "Ok, this is all well and good. But when are you going to Claim him? Just asking; Angel and I shouldn't be gone from LA too long."

Spike just smirked at a grinning Xander. "Well, actually, I claimed him years ago, when I made him my Consort. But we're going to have a ceremony night after tomorrow night. I trust you'll manage to stay that long."

Angel snorted. "Cordy, miss a marriage?" The lady in question gave him a dirty look. "I don't think so. We'll stay for that then we really must get back. Spike, can I call on you for some support in the next month? I might need it, might not." Cordelia gave him a swat on the shoulder. He ducked belatedly, exclaiming, "What?" in an indignant tone.

"Ceremony. Rising? Idiot, you don't talk business during an occasion like this. It's not like it's some meet and greet cocktail party." Cordelia pinned Angel with a glare to rival Spike's.

Angel managed to look both indignant and contrite. "Sorry. Spike?"

Spike just hugged Xander and said, "We'll talk about it later for details, but I don't see any reason why not."

Xander just sighed and started nodding off. Spike chuckled in an indulgent way and announced. "I'm taking sleepy head back to quarters and feeding him. Stay as long as you like. Timmins, see to things, will you?" Spike dragged Xander to his feet without waiting for an answer. They were half way out the door before the humans registered what he'd said. Timmins just nodded and offered Cordelia more tea.

Cordelia waited until there was no chance of Spike hearing then turned to Timmins. "Ok mister, answer time. Claimed, Companion. What the hell? Talk." She settled back and waited.

"Very well. I see that no one really understands this at all. Master Xander was made Claimed Companion back in the early days. He's now a vampire so he's a Claimed Consort. That will be announced at the 'marriage' feast. He was a Companion because Master Spike declared him one and their relationship was exclusive, that's all that takes. But a Claimed is one who has had the Master's blood. A Consort is the next step and very, very rarely a human has that honor. Master Spike and Master Xander agreed to wait to have a Turning until Master Xander looked older. Old enough that he didn't have to worry about... er...showing ID? That's what he said, at any rate.

He is now a very powerful vampire, Risen as a Master in fact. And he's only going to get more powerful as time goes on. I'd say that the two of them, Master Spike and Master Xander, are already nearly undefeatable. I'd rather stay on their good side and I'm... very old." He smirked at Angel and poured himself more tea. Angel just looked like he'd swallowed a bug.

Cordelia simpered at Angel, Willow looked sad, and Buffy just looked interested. She'd long ago gotten used to the whole idea of Xander and Spike and had called on them several times for help. She'd gotten either them or trusted lieutenants. She was happy either way

"So, you think Xander's going to be powerful?" She held out her cup for more coffee.

Timmins poured and nodded. "As we've already said. He Rose much sooner than expected, that's a sign of a powerful vampire. And he's getting nothing but Master's blood. He's been taking about an ounce a day since he was thralled." Willow winced. "He's at least three times as powerful as a man his size, or was. Now that he's Risen and getting that much Master's blood... well, he's going to make some of the old gods look lame." Buffy just grinned in a rather odd way.

"I see. Well, that's good." She sipped her coffee, settling back in her seat.

The conversation turned to other things.

.

Giles met Spike at the door of their bedroom and helped him get Xander undressed and into bed again.

"How's he doing?"

Spike grinned happily. "Fine. He's still adjusting so he'll be sleepy for a couple of days yet. He'll be really awake just about in time for the Claiming." Giles put Xander's clothing on a chair and sighed. "You look all in, go get some sleep. I won't let you miss anything important. Timmins will take care of the guests, and Tom will keep everything else in line. Shoo."

Giles went with a sigh of relief.

Spike crawled into the bed with Xander after stripping and dumping his things on top of Xander's. Timmins would take care of all of it later. Xander took his feeding quickly and dropped off completely. Spike fell asleep, holding Xander in his arms, as he had done for twenty years now.

Xander slept for most of the rest of the day and woke at his usual time of 5 pm.

"Spike. Hey, wake up. I'm hungry." Xander shook Spike by the shoulder.

"I'm awake. You want human food or blood?"

Xander snickered at Spike. "You've got bed head. Bad." Spike just swatted him. "Hey! Spousal abuse, I tell ya. Um... both, I think."

"Ok, luv, I'll poke Timmins."

Xander snorted. "I can smell it too, you know. Come on, shower, dress, food." Xander crawled out of bed and headed for the shower. "Can I have O-pos on my pancakes?"

Spike shook his head. "No, you're having nothing but my blood until further notice."

"Oh, Ok. You going to be Ok? That's a lot of blood for you to give. What's it turning out to be, a pint every 24 hours?"

"About that, it's all you'll need until you're ready for human blood. But I can replenish from the stable any time I need to. Timmins brought in over 20 new people over the last six months."

Xander did some mental math. "Ok. That's cool then. So now, feed me."

Spike just laughed. "Xander, luv, you make me so happy. Come on, I'll feed you."

So Spike fed Xander from his wrist again. Xander fed gently and licked so the bite mark healed.

Timmins stuck his head in the door just as Xander finished. "Breakfast is ready. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, orange juice, and coffee. You think you'll like it?"

Xander thought about it for a moment. Spike still had taste, so he liked human food. Angel, on the other hand, could neither smell nor taste it; he didn't bother.

Spike dragged Xander down the hall after Timmins, in a hurry to find out if Xander still could taste.

It turned out that he could taste; his moan of ecstasy over pecan pancakes with peach syrup, maple-cured bacon, and cream scrambled eggs proved that. Spike dug in, too, and between the three of them they soon cleaned all the platters and Xander was after his second cup of coffee when Giles ambled in still wearing sweat pants and a ratty t-shirt.

"Hey! Leave some for me. Pig!" Giles realize what had happened and his eyes brightened with joy. "You can taste! Great heavens above.... but that's still no reason to bogart the last of the coffee."

Xander laughed and started another pot. "Here, Mr. Cranky Pants, you can have this one. I'll wait. I've already had one."

Giles accepted the coffee with a sigh of pleasure and sipped. "Well, how do you feel? And I want details. Details, I tell you. Must... I'm going to be the first Watcher... or anyone for that matter who has any true information on a Turning."

Xander settled to answer all Giles' questions. They spent the next two hours in conversation, with Spike adding comments from time to time.

Timmins finally sent Giles to check on Buffy and Cordelia who, surprisingly enough, were now very good friends. They were up and had left to go shopping. Willow was gone, slipping out to return to England with as little fuss as possible. Tara had spent some time with her then told her to be out of Vegas as soon as she could manage it. It seemed that she was just a foolish as ever. Bud had seen her to the airport and onto her plane.

Xander realized that, while he felt sad that he wasn't friends with Willow anymore, he really couldn't say he missed her that much. He was happy with the friends he had.

Spike chivvied Xander back to bed again and they settled in to go over arrangements for the next ceremony.

"I was hoping that Bruce could make it; hear from him yet?" Xander had dispensed with his lessons five years ago, Master Bruce admitting that he couldn't teach Xander anything new. Bruce had taken leave of the Court and settled in LA to teach at a dojo for non-human students. He also took body guarding jobs for visiting dignitaries.

His Israeli counterpart, Yakov, had disappeared a few years ago; word had gotten back that he'd gone on a mission for his country and not made it back. Xander was saddened, but not surprised. Spike found himself strangely saddened as well.

Spike shrugged. "I don't think he's going to make it. He'll probably send some outrageously expensive present to make up for it."

Xander laughed. "I hope it's a new sword. The one he presented me with finally broke. Really pissed me off. I really, really liked that sword."

"I know, luv, I've heard nothing but that sword for weeks now. I'm looking for something that will be up to your new strength. Might have to have something made special."

Xander pouted, he'd loved that sword and carried it from the moment Master Bruce had given it to him.

Spike couldn't help but kiss Xander. "Oh, that lip. Gonna eat it up." Xander returned Spike's kiss with equal fervor and they spent a while just enjoying a necking session and a few gropes and grabs. Xander responded eagerly, but Spike cooled things off. They'd promised a superstitious Bud and Tara not to do anything until their union had been 'blessed'. Spike grumbled about that on an hourly basis, but they'd promised.

So, instead of the lusty romp between the sheets that they both wanted, Spike fed Xander again and they went back to sleep, counting the hours until their bonding ceremony where Xander would the proclaimed the Claimed Consort of High Master Spike.

Xander wondered vaguely what the other High Masters would send as gifts. He was greedy that way. Spike had completely spoiled him.

.

Spike and Xander spent the next day and a half alternately sleeping, feeding, and talking. Timmins brought them snacks of the human variety and made them come to table for breakfast and lunch; dinner he served them in bed. They only had dinner once as the ceremony in which Spike was to Claim Xander was on the second night after he Rose.

Spike had to admit that he was as excited as a girl about this one. He wanted every being out there to know Xander was his still. Xander was as excited as Spike and not shy about showing it. He'd picked out rings even. Spike was a bit doubtful about that until he saw them. Solid blocks of titanium had been machined into rings broad enough to cover their finger from joint to webbing, wide enough to be dramatic, narrow enough to be comfortable. The man who'd machined them had also drilled holes which the jeweler had lined in platinum, each hole encased a diamond in a bezel setting. Xander's ring held three half carat diamonds the color of Spike's eyes. Spike's ring held six diamonds as clear and pure as Xander could find. They weren't set in any particular pattern, just scattered rather randomly over the top of the band.

Spike had taken one look and approved heartily. He couldn't wait to have it on his finger and, since titanium lasted practically forever, keep it there for a very long time.

At the appointed hour of 6pm, Spike and Xander dressed in the clothing they'd chosen for this ceremony. Armani seemed appropriate to Timmins and neither Spike nor Xander had argued.

The suits were dark charcoal grey for Spike and a deep burnt umber for Xander; they both wore white, Mandarin-collared shirts. Spike's studs were black pearls and Xander's tiger eye cabochons. They looked every bit the elegant, rich, and powerful men they were.

Timmins made sure that they were perfect then left to take his place among the observers.

Spike looked into Xander's eyes and nodded, "Shall we?"

Xander smirked then replied, "We shall."

Their entrance into the large throne room was not as dramatic as their last; they just walked through the back door onto the dais and into a lighted space there. Spike waited while those who'd already noticed them poked the ones who hadn't. It didn't take long.

He was pleased to see that Buffy, Angel, Cordelia, Giles, Timmins, and Tom were right at the front almost standing on the first step. He motioned for them to come up, but none of them would move past the third step which was twice as deep as the others. He also noticed representatives from the Masters of the other Territories standing nearby. They held boxes either on a cushion or in their hands. He nodded to them to let them know that he'd seen them.

"Oi! You lot! Quiet." Spike waited for a moment for the Court to quiet. "Thank you. You're all here to witness as I formally Claim Alexander Harris as my own, and he Claims me. Yes, it's to be a mutual claiming."

There were gasps from different areas of the Court, but everyone of what Spike referred to as the inner circle, smiled. They had all been expecting something like this.

Xander smiled proudly at the room. Spike had explained it all to him. There hadn't been a mutual claiming of a High Master in more than three hundred years. He laughed, throwing his head back, allowing his unbound hair to ripple in the overhead light.

Spike rubbed his hands together and announced with rather annoying cheerfulness. "Ok, let's get this show on the road."

Xander turned to face Spike and took his hand. Slipping the ring on his finger Xander announced in a clear voice. "Always wear this ring as a symbol of my eternal claim. I will be your constant companion for the rest of my days." He slipped the ring down to the base of Spike's finger then kissed him.

Spike took Xander's hand and slipped the ring onto Xander's finger. "I Claim you as my companion, my love, my other half. Always wear this ring as a symbol of my eternal claim."

Xander smiled as Spike pushed the ring down his finger to the base. "Yes, are we done now?"

Spike nodded. "Yes, my impatient luv." He took Xander's hand in his and held them both over his head. "I Claim him!"

Xander echoed Spike's words and actions.

The entire courtroom cheered again.

All the remaining Scoobies approached to hug and congratulate them both. Buffy couldn't resist; she fixed Spike with a mock stern look and said, "Shovel, mister. Just sayin'?" Then grinned at him and turned to Xander with the same warning.

Spike just smirked while Xander gave her his best, 'Who me?' expression.

Buffy hugged them both again then handed them off to Cordelia who also hugged them both. She handed Spike a card with a grin then gave another to Xander. Xander had to smile; they were gift cards for a 'toy' shop that both he and Spike were fond of. They thanked her with matching smirks. She snorted, "Pervs," and returned to her place, dragging Buffy with her.

Giles just stepped up and shook hands with both of them; he didn't bring a present as his was in their bedroom waiting for them. They both smiled and then let him go back to his place. Timmins and Tom came next, kneeling together to swear their fealty to Xander as they had to Spike, so long ago. Xander was delighted, but had to wipe his eyes with one hand. Spike beamed on the proceedings with undisguised delight. Their swearing done, they both returned to their places, not on the floor, but standing behind the happy couple.

Then it was time for the other Masters' gifts to be presented.

The representative of the Eastern Seaboard came first; he knelt at Spike and Xander's feet and opened the casket, presenting it for viewing. It contained matching Gucci watches, thin as paper, with leather bands. Xander's watch was obvious as it was larger than Spike's both in face and band. They took the watches from their beds and put them on.

Spike thanked the representative while Xander admired his watch.

The next representative just held a cushion up to Spike on which sat a carved wooden box. When Spike opened it, all there was in it was an envelope. Xander sniffed the air delicately. "That's from New Orleans."

The representative just smiled; Xander had identified his origin just from smelling the paper.

"Yes, it is. This is from Master Robinson, please." He extended the cushion to Xander. Spike nodded so Xander picked up the envelope and opened it. It was a certificate for one of New Orleans' grand hotels. A two week all expenses paid vacation and a free pass. A permission from the Master of Louisiana to stay in his Territory.

The representative from the Northern Territory was last, but he didn't seem to mind. He presented Spike and Xander both with thick rectangular boxes. Timmins moved to his side and took one which he offered to Xander; the representative offered the other to Spike. Xander eyed the one Timmins was offering him with a skittish look, but Timmins just grinned and nodded for him to open it. Xander and Spike opened their boxes at the same time.

They contained working antique Tommy Guns, the real article, not reproductions. Spike lifted his out of the box and examined it. "Very nice. Xander?"

Xander just ran a finger down the stock reverently. "Wow. They're the read deal. Very nice."

Spike re-cased his gun and handed the boxes off to a minion who placed the boxes on a side table along with all the other presents they'd been given.

The representative bowed and returned to his place, a relieved expression on his face.

Xander and Spike accepted a few presents from casinos and other local establishments, but soon Spike had had enough; he announced in a loud voice, "Thank you all for your presents and good wishes. We're leaving now. Good day, night, or what ever." Xander snickered at this and allowed himself to be hauled through the door, laughing like a loon.

.

Spike was deliriously happy, happier than he'd been since he'd laid first claim on Xander.

Xander had turned perfectly, soul still firmly stuck on.

Xander was happy too. He'd always thought, somewhere in the back of his mind, that Spike would change his mind.

Spike turned in the door to their bed room and smirked at Xander. "I should carry the bride over the threshold, but ..." He let out a very unmanly shriek when Xander grabbed him.

Xander swept Spike up in his arms and tossed him across the room onto the bed. Spike's vampire reflexes kept this from being a disaster so he landed in the middle of the huge bed, laughing. Xander made it across the room in two bounds and hopped on top of him.

They wrestled a bit then Spike pushed Xander off him. "Orf! We'll ruin these suits and I want to put them up."

Xander obeyed, stripping out of the suit in record time. He took his suit and Spike's, roughly folded them and dropped them on the closet floor. "There, satisfied?"

"No, but Timmins will be." Spike crooked his finger in a universal 'come hither' gesture. Xander went to him with a lecherous leer that made Spike laugh.

Spike pulled Xander down onto the bed and rolled over on him, grinding their pelvises together. Xander unashamedly whimpered.

"Oh, don't do that. I'll go off like a two dollar pistol."

"That's the idea, luv. Vampire now, remember? Reload in two seconds, you will."

Xander gave up. He'd done without since he'd been turned, and now he knew why Tara had insisted. All he needed was a touch and he'd blow like a volcano. Spike provided that touch by running one finger up his erection from base to tip.

When he was done shuddering, Xander unclenched each muscle individually and mock snarled, "Ass." Spike just curled his tongue behind his teeth and snickered.

"Now we can take our time. You'll be ready again in a few minutes. An' don't be too pissed." Spike gestured to himself. He'd exploded, too, so Xander wasn't alone in his eagerness.

Xander couldn't resist Spike; he always said Spike tasted like silk and honey, which made Spike laugh and ask what silk tasted like. Xander had always said, "You." Now Xander licked his way from the point of Spike's chin to his groin, taking a detour at his navel that had both of them chuckling. Spike liked it when Xander laughed during their time together; it tickled.

Spike enjoyed Xander's attentions until he couldn't stand it anymore; he had to push him away, or come sooner than he wanted. Xander obeyed Spike's gentle push and allowed himself to be maneuvered onto his back. Spike returned his attentions with enthusiasm, making Xander groan softly. Spike turned his head and his twinkling eyes met Xander's. Xander blinked at him for a moment then sighed, "That's so good."

It didn't take them long to explode again. And again. Then Spike kept Xander on edge until he pinned Spike down and demanded, "Orgasm, now!" Spike obliged.

The night was filled with sighs and moans, tender touches and loving kisses. Xander led Spike from orgasm to orgasm and followed where he was led.

The sheets wound up on the floor. The duvet was draped over the headboard, and neither Spike nor Xander knew where the pillows were.

Xander grumbled, "I'm done. Finita, fucked out."

Spike snickered, "I know. That last was orgasm number ten."

Xander pulled away to look at Spike. "Damn, you counted?"

"Of course. Had to make sure you were satisfied."

"I am. And sated, and any other word that means fucked into the mattress."

"You don't mean fucked, you mean well loved."

"That, too." Xander pulled Spike to rest on his shoulder. "I do... love you. You know?"

"I do. I love you, too. Have for so very long."

Xander rubbed Spike's shoulder. "I asked you a question a long time ago. You said to drop it, you'd tell me when the time was right. I think the time is right."

"Question? OH, oh, that question. About my ulterior motives." Xander rubbed his cheek against the top of Spike's head. "I wanted a true companion, someone who would stay with me, love me, have my back. When Willow hexed you into a thrall, I saw the chance to... not mold you or change you, but to help you be everything you showed potential for. And I did everything I knew how to do to get you to return my love. That was my Ulterior Motive."

Xander just hummed softly then murmured, "Well... you succeeded. I'm here to stay for the long run. Thanks."

He reached over and tugged the duvet off the headboard and pulled it over them. Spike snuggled against him until they wound up spooning, wrapped in the duvet. Spike heard Xander murmur, "I like Ulterior Motives." just as he dozed off.


End file.
